Mind Over Matter
by Neva
Summary: Interlocking story with "Out of Sight, Out of Mind." Stephen's an ordinary teenager with ordinary worries: high school survival skills, unrequited love, and the fact that he can suddenly hear other people's thoughts...
1. Prologue

A/N: This story takes place _during_ Out of Sight, Out of Mind so the two stories fit together. I've changed that story a little bit (nothing major) so this one can stand on its own, and a couple of scenes from the end of this story will be the same as that one. Here, due to popular demand, Stephen tells his side of the story, and then I'm going to write a third fic where he and Phoebe take turns telling what happens next. Now that you're all suitably confused, on with the story!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men. See, Xavier? It isn't that hard to say.  
  
Prologue  
  
The first time I saw the girl of my dreams, she had just pulled a dog the size of a pony off of me at the park. I was stuck with the job of keeping my little sister, Violet, out of the movers' hair. We had just arrived in Wallglass the day before, and this giant poodle about the size of a pony, who I guess sensed that I didn't know him and wouldn't know to move out of the way in time, broke free from the girl who was holding his leash and knocked me to the ground. She grabbed his collar, hauled him off of me, and apologized a hundred million times. By the time she'd gotten him basically under control, I had learned that her name was Phoebe Corlisle, that she was being paid to take Winston to the park every afternoon, and that we would be in the same sixth-grade class once school started. By the time it did, we were best friends.  
  
The last time I saw her, she was running out of Professor Xavier's office like the hounds of hell were after her.   
  
I definitely didn't mean to hurt her. I guess I could have paid more attention to what she had to say, or at least stopped showing off every twelve seconds. She hated it when I did that, and I don't blame her for that either. Like most people, she's scared of what she can't understand or control.  
  
Listen to me. I sound like Xavier. Not that this is a bad thing. Like most mutants here, I look up to him. He rescued all of us from some pretty bad situations. Scott was living with an abusive foster parent. Jubilee was holed up in a shopping mall. Rogue doesn't talk much about her past, but anyone can tell that it wasn't very pleasant. And Logan doesn't even remember a whole lot about his old life. Xavier offered each of us a way out, a chance to be accepted, a place where we wouldn't have to deal with people who unjustly judged us.  
  
I just wish Phoebe wasn't one of those people. I can't remember ever being as close to anyone as I was to her. I was sort of counting on her being the one person who would be sympathetic during this whole mess. I guess that even with a power like this, I'm not very perceptive, huh? She just couldn't deal, and for some reason that I don't get, she hates Xavier. I mean, she really, really hates him. It doesn't matter how much he's done for me, for all of us. It doesn't matter that he only uses his power for good, not evil.  
  
I'd like to call her another civilian, just another person we have to save. But I can't. Because she's not just another anything. I know that whatever she feels, and whatever her reasons are, it's all her. She was that way from the beginning, and part of me hopes she never changes. But the rest of me knows that she'll have to. Just like the rest of the world will have to.  
  
I should hate her for threatening us like she did. I should think that she's The Enemy, right up there with Magneto and the rest of the Brotherhood. But I can't. Even loyalty to the team has its limits.  
  
I wish that she could see the truth, that we're only trying to help.  
  
I wish that she hadn't jumped to conclusions and thought that Xavier was trying to brainwash her.  
  
Then I could admit to the others how much I'd give just to see her again.


	2. Freak Tally

Chapter 1: Freak Tally  
  
Things began to go wrong almost as soon as school started, but it seems like one of the last times they were truly right was the end of last summer. My loving parents were throwing their traditional barbecue, and my mother's best friend, Joanne, brought her undigestible potato salad and her two daughters.  
  
Phoebe had been working at an arts camp this summer, and Isobel was on vacation with her parents for most of it, but the group had still seen plenty of each other. Just a couple of weeks before, we'd piled into Jamie's car; destination: the county fair. Kevin had tried to impress Jamie by winning a giant pink stuffed bunny which she ended up naming Ludwig. Phoebe and I had sat together on the Ferris wheel, each of us praying that it would get stuck at the top, because there's no point in getting on otherwise, is there?  
  
Now, she was perched on the hood of her mom's old Volvo, telling me a joke that one of her campers told her. Her strawberry-blond hair was wildly curly, and she was drenched in freckles. The perfect summer babe, I'd think if I were in any other situation, but we're just friends. It's been that way for five years.  
  
So, there are these two guys, she began, and they're from way out in the sticks.  
  
From here? I guessed.  
  
She grinned. If that helps. And they're on vacation, and decide to do some ice fishing. So they come to this ice pond with a wall around it, and figure, oh, it must be some sort of public fishing pond. So they get out all their equipment, and put their lines down, and wait. Right?  
  
I was leaning against the car, a can of soda in one hand, trying to follow what she was saying.  
  
And after a while, they hear this booming voice: There are no fish under the ice.'  
  
Where's it coming from? my nine-year-old sister wanted to know.  
  
You'll see, Vi. She went on to describe how the two guys agree that they've just been hearing things, even after they hear the voice again. After the third time (I said, _there are no fish under the ice_!), one of the guys finally loses his patience and yells, Who are you, God? The voice replies, No, I'm the rink manager.  
  
It was a pretty dumb joke, but Violet and I both laughed ourselves silly. Okay, okay, I've got one, I said when I'd calmed down. Ask me if I'm a boat.  
  
Oh, no, not this one, Violet groaned.  
  
Phoebe shrugged. Okay. Are you a boat?  
  
Yup. Now ask me if I'm a plane.  
  
Are you a plane?  
  
I looked at her like she had just confessed that she had met the Devil once, just like Mr. Freed who lives on her street. No, silly, I'm a boat!  
  
She sat there for a moment, then started giggling. That's... even... worse... than... mine! she gasped.  
  
Say cheese! came a voice. It belonged to Angelina, who is literally Phoebe's evil twin, a definite wild type. The camera let off a blinding light right in our faces. She'd been taking about a billion pictures this summer, most of them prime blackmail material.  
  
Phoebe wailed. She doesn't like having her picture taken. But she was still laughing.  
  
As I looked at her, my head began to throb. Right between my eyes, like I'd been looking at something cross-eyed for a really long time, though much more intense. The pain was sharp enough to make me cry out, but it was over quickly, and she was staring at me. Stephen? You okay?  
  
Yeah. My head hurt there for a second. Must be pre-school stress. I did my imitation of Mr. Lewis, the guidance couselor. Because junior year is the year that matters to colleges.' I was hoping to make her laugh again, because I didn't want to think about this year until I actually had to.  
  
You'll be fine, she said. You're really smart. The story that you wrote last year for English was great.  
  
True, but that wasn't going to make people like me any more. A kid who doesn't play sports, and hangs out with one of the most gorgeous girls in school but has never put the moves on her, is never going to be popular no matter how hard he tries. Add to that the fact that after one serious attempt at romance in freshman year (which is a long and embarrassing story that I don't want to get into right now), I never chased another girl, and you have a prime candidate for bathroom graffiti. And it wasn't like I didn't recognize the handwriting right away, either. I'd like to say that I'd pound Jeff Price to a pulp if I ever got the chance, but I'm not that good at pounding people, either. Chalk up another one on the Freak Tally.  
  
I've never told Phoebe about the Freak Tally, or even that I've ever wanted to be just like everyone else. She sees me as the comic relief, the eccentric but lovable type who completely ignores what other people think of him. I let her think it, telling myself that she has to know that there's more to me than that, but sometimes I wonder -- not only whether I'm right, but what she really does think of me. It's not like I can ask her. As it is, she counts on me to make her laugh, and I count on her to... well, to make me feel normal, I guess.  
  
As she hopped off the car and led me toward the grill, where (I cringed), my dad had put on the goofy chef's hat that he got at a yard sale, I told myself I was lucky that this same old dumb thing was all I was worrying about right now. That before long, I'd probably have much worse problems.  
  
And I was right.


	3. Never Better

A/N: This fic is turning out to be harder to write than I thought. Whether it's because my muse is being his usual impossible self or because I'm not used to writing from a guy's point of view, I don't know.  
  
Chapter 2: Never Better  
  
It was only a couple of weeks into the school year when my parents started fighting again. They had never lasted that long before, and there had been plenty of opportunities for them to go at it again. This time, Dad was settling down to do some work on a new episode in the den (for once, he said dramatically), when my mom shouted, Darren, if you're going to do _that_, close the door. The word _that_ was spoken like he was doing something disgusting instead of writing. He could easily have shut it, and did so, but not before he demanded to know what she was doing that was so important. She and Violet had been watching a movie together, and Dad responded that maybe he couldn't concentrate on his writing with _that_ going on, either. She put the VCR on pause and strode into the den, where they launched into their traditional argument about Communication and Respect. I waited for my name to come up, but it never did.  
  
Dad writes the scripts for _Nebula Vista_, a daytime soap opera with very high ratings. A bunch of kids at school actually go to the trouble of taping the show (I've seen it, of course, and believe me, it's not worth it), so of course they know who I am. That doesn't help my reputation, either. Mom is a great believer in people excercising their talents, and sometimes I think she thinks that he's wasting his.  
  
My parents, like the school, have apparently decided that now that I'm a certain age, it's automatically time for me to stop thinking about my social life and start thinking about what I want to be and what I want to do. The truth? I have no idea of either. Sometimes I think I want to be a stand-up comedian (you've got to understand that the ask-me-if-I'm-a-boat joke isn't the best I can do), but then, when I was just a little younger, I wanted to be an FBI agent and before that, the guy who wears the Mickey Mouse suit at Disney World. So you never know.  
  
Our bus is usually the first one to get to school, but my opposition had gotten there even earlier. Jeff, Pat, Brian, Karen, and Cindy were sprawled on the gigantic heating unit in the main hall, acting like the bell was going to ring in ten months instead of ten minutes. I wished I could cover my ears against the shouts of Stevie Wonder and but that would have been suicide.  
  
Aw, don't be so hard on him, Jeff, Karen sang out. He just hasn't had the real experience yet. When the bell rings, she goes into clean-cut cheerleader mode, but until that time, she's free to, um, display who she really is for her boyfriend and his cronies. And display herself she did, fiddling extra-long with the top button of her shirt. Maybe I looked a little longer than I should have, because Jeff swung his eyes my way again. If looks could kill, I wouldn't even have to worry about dying of boredom in history class. I don't even like Karen -- I think they deserve each other -- but try telling him that.  
  
I walked away as fast as I could without making it look like I was running.  
  
**  
  
Even though I do worry about what the other kids think of me, I probably shouldn't. I mean, I did have friends and everything, real friends, ones who liked me for who I am, or at least what they saw of me.   
  
It was still warm enough for Kevin, Jasmine, Isobel, and me to eat outside. Now Phoebe set down her lunch bag jauntily, grinning from one newly-double-pierced ear to the other. Her hair was up in a hasty knot, but a few unruly spirals had escaped the scrunchie, which actually matched her silky blue shirt.  
  
You look happy, Isobel observed.  
  
I am.  
  
What, did you get the solo? I asked her. She's in Select Chorus, and had told me a while back that she was going to try out for one of the solo parts for the fall concert.  
  
Yeah, and that's not all.  
  
What else? came from Jasmine. She and Isobel leaned forward.  
  
Guess who I'm singing with?  
  
Tell us or we'll kill you, Isobel threatened. She can give a look like she means it, too.  
  
But Jasmine looked like she'd gotten it. No way!  
  
Phoebe said, grinning even wider, if that was possible.  
  
The other two girls squealed. She didn't; she once told me to slap her if she ever got into the habit of making that noise. I could see why. Besides, I was more confused than ever. Um, what's going on here?  
  
You know Reese? Phoebe asked me.  
  
  
  
Spiky hair, dresses all in black, always writing in that notebook of his?  
  
I thought back.   
  
Well, there are two solo parts, one male and one female. He tried out, and it turns out we're going to be singing together.  
  
He is _so _hot, Isobel said, a trace of actual emotion creeping into her voice.  
  
Jasmine agreed.  
  
Kevin said loudly.  
  
She turned back to him. Sorry, baby. I was just trying to support her. And to tell her to let us know if anything happens!  
  
Nothing is going to happen! Phoebe protested, but she looked as if she wouldn't mind if something did.  
  
The eye-crossing headache was back. Again, it only lasted for a minute, but during that minute, something seriously weird happened.  
  
_she's so lucky  
  
I'm nervous I can't do this what if I mess up  
  
it'll never work out she won't let it I know her  
  
test next block and guess who didn't study_  
  
Stephen, talk to you for a second?  
  
By the time I'd sorted out that real, coherent voice from the fragments that had struck me all at once, they were gone. Everything was normal again. Had I imagined it, or was I going crazy?   
  
I said, can I talk to you for a second? Kevin repeated.  
  
What? Oh, sure.  
  
We stood and he led me out of earshot. I think I know what's up.  
  
He did? Had he heard the voices, too?   
  
You're jealous, he said simply.  
  
I repeated. Jealous of who? About what?  
  
He jerked his bandanaed head toward Phoebe, who was laughing again. Are you playing dumb, or are you actually dumb?  
  
In English, I suggested.  
  
-- he pointed at me -- want _her_. He nodded toward Phoebe again. _We_ have noticed it for a long time, because _you_ could not be more transparent.  
  
You're full of it, I said confidently. We're --  
  
Just friends, it would ruin things, blah, blah, blah. That's why it's so perfect. You know her, she knows you, you're comfortable together, and you have something to fall back on if it doesn't work out. Besides, don't try to tell me that you don't think she's hot.  
  
Well, yeah. But it's a fact, not an opinion. I shook my head. I didn't mean that. Stop it. You're confusing me.  
  
You can't deny your true nature, young one, Kevin said in his best wise-old-guy voice.  
  
By the time the bell rang, I was too busy thinking about what he has said to dwell for long on the voices. By the end of the day, I had convinced myself that I'd been imagining them. And in the next little while, I forgot them altogether, because I was beginning to wonder if Kevin hadn't been right after all.  
  
  



	4. Stop The Voices

A/N: Like I said, I changed the other story so that the two can coordinate. The management (i.e., my muse and I) apologize for any inconvenience.  
  
Chapter 3: Stop The Voices  
  
Somehow, I made it through the next month of school, despite the fact that I had to confront the heater crowd every day as soon as I got in the door. The headaches continued periodically, but I blamed them on stress. Our history teacher, far from being boring, was way involved and gave us tons of homework. On the other hand, there were no more weird voices.  
  
My family sat next to Joanne, Andrew, and Angelina up on the balcony. Violet was leaning against the railing, sticking her head through the bars and wondering out loud what would happen if she spit on the crowd below. Dad told her that she'd lose her privileges if she did it. By the time I was nine, that had already stopped working on me.  
  
Phoebe and this guy with spiky hair were both standing in front of the risers before a pair of microphones. They were both wearing sparkly vests and bow ties, and she made the outfit look _good_. She'd been stressing all week about screwing up, but I knew she wouldn't. She was too... what was the word... composed.  
  
And she didn't mess up. Her sweet, clear voice filled the whole auditorium, and I didn't think that I was the only one who was sorry when the rest of the chorus took over. The only downside was that the way she and Reese were facing each other, it looked like she was singing _to_ him about how much she loved him and wanted to stay with him. I knew that it was just a coincidence, but I remembered how she'd talked to her girlfriends about him. I don't remember ever feeling jealous of anyone before, but there was a first time for everything.   
  
Near the end of her solo, I swear that her eyes met mine.  
  
As they did, my heart began to beat a little faster. A second later, I resisted the urge to grab my head as the pain returned, worse than ever, like something was trying to claw its way out of my brain. With it came a multitude of voices  
  
_she sounds so good I want to be just like her  
  
what's going on between her and that boy  
  
damn this school  
  
have Amanda be shot or fall down the elevator shaft  
  
later when the girls are asleep_  
  
that struck me all at once  
  
_open house Monday god forbid I should miss it again_  
  
from everywhere at once  
  
_new movie in town alien invasion she might like it should I ask her  
  
won't get off on a technicality this time that lawyer's nothing but a hack_  
  
and I sqeezed my eyes shut, biting back screams, because even now, I knew what happened to people who, out of nowhere, yelled out, Stop the voices!  
  
They were thought to be crazy, that's what.  
  
Of course, maybe that wasn't too far off.  
  
I sat there until the voices cleared, at least for a little while, and all I heard was the wild applause. I remembered just in time that I should be clapping, too. Something told me that I shouldn't tell anyone about this. At least not now.  
  
I waited for her in the hall for her after it was all over. She and Reese burst out of the doors together.  
  
_best night of my life I wonder if she knows how much I want her_  
  
The guy had maybe said two words to me in all the time we knew each other, but I had no trouble placing the voice as his. But it wasn't like his lips had moved.  
  
I hugged and congratulated Phoebe, taking a second to smell her hair. Nice, like strawberries. I prayed that she wouldn't ask what was wrong.  
  
_what about Stephen what do I tell him?_  
  
I jumped back like she'd slapped me.  
  
It wasn't until we were alone together, walking down the dark streets of her neighborhood, that I brought it up. I didn't say exactly what was happening to me, I asked her what she thought it would be like if you were the only person in the world with something weird about you. And she laughed at me. Said that I wasn't an alien, and that I belonged on earth with the rest of them.  
  
I could be going crazy. That's one option. But I'm beginning to think that there's an alternative.  
  
In the science fiction stories I've read (and I've read a lot of them), there are usually aliens who can read minds. In movies, too -- it's some kind of side effect of being super smart, which for some reason alien invaders always are. I guess people figure they wouldn't be able to get here otherwise.  
  
As she said, I don't have green skin, flippers, or antennae. I don't have any mysterious memories of spaceships crashing. And nothing like this had ever happened to me before.  
  
I wasn't sure which I would prefer: being crazy, or being a freak.  
  
It was only nine-thirty when we got home, but I crashed into bed, and slept for fourteen hours.  
  
**  
  
Good thing the next day was Saturday. The very idea of going to school would have made me laugh if I didn't feel like the dog's breakfast. The metaphorical dog, I mean -- Violet sneezes if she gets within ten feet of a real one.  
  
I do have fish, though. The bubbling of their tank was, I think, what woke me up the next morning. Let it have been a dream. Please let it have been a dream. Please.  
  
When I got downstairs a little while later, Mom was watering the plants and singing along with the radio. Morning, sleepyhead, she greeted me. Your dad's in the den, writing. _A waste of talent, God knows I've tried to be supportive, but I thought I'd dropped enough hints. Maybe I was wrong. I mean, what is he, a mind reader?_  
  
This time, I did laugh.  
  
What's so funny?  
  
It was easier to identify who the voices belonged to when there wasn't a big crowd around me, but I still didn't know how to turn them off. I was saved from answering her by the ringing of the doorbell.  
  
Could you get that? Mom asked, and I obliged.  
  
I didn't recognize the two people who were on the other side of the door. Maybe they were from the TV studio -- Dad gets some weird visitors from time to time. The black woman with the flowing white hair, who still looked younger than my parents, glanced at my shirt. I don't belong here,' she read out loud. You might feel like that now, but that will change. Trust me.  
  
Ororo, please, said the bald man in the wheelchair. You'll only confuse him more.  
  
I'm sorry, I said. Who are you?  
  
No, I'm the one who needs to apologize, he said. Professor Charles Xavier -- charmed.  
  
And I'm Ororo Munroe, the woman jumped in. We've heard a lot about you, Stephen.  
  
Was I still dreaming?   
  
Did we know your name? Professor Xavier finished for me. I run a school for the gifted. We're considering you for enrollment. Might we come in?  
  
Gifted? Me? I shook my head. You must have the wrong house. But sure, come on in.  
  
When the six of us were seated in the living room, Xavier explained to my parents who he was and why he was there. They were as mystified as I was. Stevie's very intelligent, Dad was saying. But we didn't even know that any alternative schools were interested in him.  
  
Do not call me Stevie, I muttered under my breath.  
  
I'm sure he is, Xavier said. Intelligence is certainly a quality that we look for in our students. But they are chosen for certain... other talents that they might possess. Talents for which your son has excellent potential.  
  
Call me slow, but I had no idea what he meant by that.  
  
I think you know _exactly_ what I mean by that.  
  
It wasn't like the other voices, fragments of thoughts that suddenly appeared in my head. It was clear, coherent, and directed straight at me.  
  
I stared at Xavier, knowing that whatever I was, alien or... whatever, I had just met another one.  
  
Try instead of , he suggested. But let me be the one to tell your family.  
  
Before he could do so, there was another knock at the door. This time it was Violet who rushed to answer it. A second later, I could hear her saying, We got company now, Phoebe.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
Can I still come in?  
  
_No, Vi. Please.  
_  
  
  
I suppressed a groan as Phoebe entered the room, pushing back the hood of her sweater. She stared, perplexed, at the two strangers.  
  
How was I going to explain this to her... especially when I could barely understand it myself?  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Last Hope

Chapter 4: Last Hope

"As I'm not sure you've realized, mutants are simply humans who were born with extra abilities," Xavier was saying. As it happened, he had ended up dropping the bombshell on my parents and Phoebe at the same time. "But when these abilities first manifest, they are out of control. That was why the Institute was set up."

"Where is it?" Dad asked.

"In Bayville, New York."

"That's about an hour away from here," my mother observed.

"Yes. You would be able to visit him any time you wished. Most of the other residents were recruited from all over."

"They attend high school in town," Ms. Munroe jumped in. "The professor feels that it's important to give them as much of a normal life as possible, to make up for the fact that they'll never be normal again."

_How comforting_, I thought.

"After school, they train to develop their powers to their greatest potential."

I didn't hear the rest of my parents' questions. Sure, I may have looked like I was taking it okay, but I was reeling inside.

There was an explanation for the voices in my head, besides that I was crazy or from outer space.

Our two visitors had obviously been there -- were still there, actually. Sounded like the white-haired lady could control the weather. And Xavier... he was like me.

They were talking about a place where there were more people who could do weird things like this... okay, maybe not _exactly_ like this, but weird things all the same. A place where I could learn to block out the voices, hopefully gain back some of my sanity.

On the other hand, I had a _life_ here, and even though I didn't know where that life was going, there wasn't any guarantee that I wouldn't, sooner or later. I had a family with their own troubles, but no family was perfect. I had friends who cared about me.

But would they feel the same way about what I was now?

I looked over at Phoebe. After insisting that it was a joke, she'd become very silent. I didn't blame her... when she and Xavier had looked at each other like that, she'd totally freaked out. And I had a feeling I knew why.

"...what do you think?"

I snapped to attention. "What?"

"What do you think?" Xavier repeated. "I'm offering you an escape, a chance to become what you were meant to be and to control the presence of other people's thoughts in your mind. Without training, if you don't go insane -- which I wouldn't necessarily rule out -- people will think that you are. Is that what you want? To be thought a freak?"

"Isn't that what I am?" I retorted.

"That's ridic --" Phoebe began. Xavier shot her a look, and she fell silent.

"You are not a freak," he told me. "You're gifted."

"I think I have a T-shirt that says that." I tried to laugh, but it turned into something between a hysterical guffaw and a sob. I knew that he was wrong. This was just one more thing to add to my tally of thins that made me different. And unlike the others, it wasn't something I could change. "I'll think about it."

"Very well," he agreed, pulling something out of his coat pocket. "I understand that this isn't a decision that can be made lightly. Here is our card." He handed it to Mom. "You can easily reach me when you come to a decision. Hopefully, it will be the right one."

She nodded, and rose to her feet to show them out, leaving the rest of us all but frozen in our seats.

Violet was crying. I wasn't sure my legs would hold me, but I crossed the room and sat down next to her.

_he's just the same person he was before but different_

I managed a smile. "Thanks, Vi."

Mom came back in. "Phoebe, dear, maybe it would be best if you left."

Phoebe only looked my way once on her way out. "So," Dad said when she was gone.

"So," I repeated.

"How long has this been happening?"

"I thought I heard weird voices a few weeks ago." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I thought it was nothing, so I let it go, and it didn't happen again. Until last night."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want to ruin things."

"So you thought that you'd wait for those two... others to explain everything."

"I was _going_ to tell you," I said, feeling lower and lower with each passing second. "Do you think this is easy for me either?"

"I never tried to hide things from my parents," my mother boasted.

"That's a lie," I mumbled. Show me a kid who shared everything with their parents, and I'll show you one who really was living on a different planet.

"And how do you know it's a lie?" she returned. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You can read our minds now, and you think you know everything about us."

"Leave him alone!" Violet burst out.

Mom turned on her. "Go to your room."

"But --"

"Now. We'll talk later."

My little sister, who was probably the most sensible of all of us at the moment, cast me one backward glance and stomped up the stairs.

I didn't have to take this. _Couldn't_ take this. I got up, too, and made for stairs. On the landing, I suddenly heard a voice – a real one. "Stevie?"

It was Violet. She's the only one who's allowed to call me that. I didn't stop her when she followed me back to my room. "What's up?" I asked her.

"I don't see what the big deal is."

"Me, neither." I guess that was a lie, but I didn't want to unload this on her.

"You can be a mutant if you want to be one, I guess." She was thinking – and hoping -- that this was a choice I had made, one that I only had to take back for everything to be okay again.

"I don't want to be one," was all I could say.

"Then tell Mommy and Daddy you changed your mind."

I didn't want to be the one to tell her this, but I knew better than to let our parents handle it. "I don't think it works like that." 

"Oh." She stared at the floor for a second. "Are you leaving? Really?"

"I don't know. It'd be a pretty big change."

"You'd have to leave Phoebe behind, right?" I looked at her sharply. "I'm just _asking_."

"I probably would," I admitted.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

"You know we're just friends."

"Sure, I know. I'm just bugging you. It's my job."

"And I can't even think about her right now," I added.

That was a lie, too.


	6. Backed Into a Corner

Chapter 5: Backed Into a Corner  
  
Monday was a nightmare. I guess they always are, even when you're trying to sort out the words people want you to hear and the ones they don't.  
  
_when are they going to stop pestering me about college already  
  
by the end of the day or else  
  
stupid cow how dare she  
  
wear long sleeves and if anyone asks my cat scratched me_  
  
I didn't see her until the end of the day... and even that wasn't until after Jeff and his goons had caught up with me. The halls were almost empty, and I was taking the long cut in order to hopefully avoid them. No such luck.  
  
Where you headed, Stevie Wonder? Jeff drawled. The piercing above his chin glittered dangerously.  
  
Home. Don't hassle me.  
  
I'll lay off you when you lay off my girlfriend.  
  
  
  
Karen's been cold lately. Real cold. I know when a girl's lying to me. I've seen the way she looks at you, and the way you looks at her.  
  
I don't know what you're talking about, I muttered.  
  
The two guys behind him laughed on cue. He doesn't know what I'm talking about,' Jeff repeated. You want to die, Spencer?  
  
Not really, I admitted. _Let someone come, someone staying after school for cheerleading or even for detention..._  
  
_he dumps her and I'll dump Cindy, I swear, what was I thinking, Karen's the only one for me_  
  
I must have gaped or something. Jeff demanded to know what I was looking at.  
  
The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. Leave me alone or I'll tell Karen all about you and Cindy.  
  
Now Jeff was the one who was gaping. He shot a look at Pat and Brian, who remembered to gape too. Where'd you hear that?  
  
Oops.   
  
She tell you that? Is that how she hooked you, by lying like that?  
  
She didn't hook me. I heard it... somewhere else.  
  
Another liar, Jeff said decisively. Just like her. I would say that the two of you deserved each other, but I don't just let stuff like this go. What kind of boyfriend would I be then?  
  
In the time it takes to blink, Pat had shot forward and slammed me backward against the locker. The air-slits (why did they have those things, anyway?) pressed into my back. I tried to get away, but all I ended up doing was ripping my shirt. Threw a few punches, but he just laughed it off. There were three of them and only one of me; they worked out and wrestled and I was gangly and scrawny... Jeff swung and hit me right under my right eye; the pain was more intense than last night but shorter in duration...  
  
_Stop,_ I thought, _stop, just stop._  
  
Sometime during all this, I had closed my eyes. Now I opened them. If I hadn't already been backed up against the lockers, I would have moved away slowly.  
  
Jeff was frozen in what looked like a position to hit me again. Brian and Pat stood on either side of him. They weren't moving, either. I said tentatively. There was no reply.  
  
Had I done this?  
  
Of course I had. If I could read minds, who knew what else I could do?  
  
Oh, my God. Oh, no.  
  
I ducked away and began to run, mostly because I couldn't think of anything else to do. When I was safely out of sight, I peeked back around a corner. The hall was completely empty.  
  
At least it didn't last. Whatever I had done, I sure hadn't meant it. And that was the whole problem. Until I could work it out so I _did_ mean to do it (not that I was in a big hurry to do anything like this again), anyone who pissed me off was in trouble, and I didn't have any guarantee that it wouldn't always be temporary.  
  
I stopped in the bathroom on my way outside. My face in the mirror, except for the black eye, was paper-white and completely terrified. It was the same face I'd had my entire life, but now it belonged to someone completely different.  
  
What am I going to do? I asked my reflection.  
  
And the worst part was, it wasn't like I didn't have an answer.  
  
**  
  
I told my parents. How could I not? The four of us sat in the living room, all of them silent as I said, Remember that thing that Xavier suggested? That place? Well, I think I can go. I think I have to.  
  
Are you sure? Dad asked.  
  
As sure as I am that I never want anything like this to happen again. It doesn't sound that bad, that place. I wouldn't have to hide. And it isn't like I'm never going to see you guys again.  
  
It's your decision, he said, sounding like he was forcing the words out. And it's what's best, we've already talked about that.  
  
We talked for a little while longer, somehow deciding that I'd take the bus there tomorrow. Before Mom went into the kitchen to make the call, she asked if I wanted to say goodbye to my friends. What are you going to tell them?  
  
Phoebe knows, I said. If she wants to tell the others, she can. I was worried enough about what she would think. I prayed that I could make her understand that this was what I had to do.  
  
Then I replayed what I'd just thought, flashed on the phrase make her understand and shuddered.  
  
**  
  
Even though I was the telepath (I'd said it over to myself, trying to get used to calling myself that), not her, I've always known that Phoebe could read me when I was upset or had something to tell her. In this case, when she answered the door, I didn't even have to say anything. The look on my face told all. I told you that it's fine with me, she said stiffly. I think it's a good idea.  
  
  
  
It would only be a lie if I didn't think you were going to be okay. But you will be, right?  
  
I said. And it's not like we're not going to see each other again. I did a passable imitation of her favorite movie, the one we watched at all her parties: Hear this now: I will always come for you.'  
  
She gave a watery smile. Well, Westley, good luck. Write to me, okay? Or call.  
  
You can call me, too. My parents have the number.  
  
Phoebe nodded. I'm going to miss you.  
  
I pulled her close, trying to memorize her familiar scent, her voice, the strength that was greater than she knew, the face that was prettier than she could even have guessed, just in case I needed something to get me through.   
  
She was lying, and I knew it, but I wouldn't let myself believe it. I'd gone through a lot just to make this decision, expecting some sort of emotion to follow: sadness, excitement, relief, fear, hope. But now that the choice was made, I felt absolutely nothing.  
  
**  
  
Disclaimer: The line I will always come for you and Phoebe's response are references to _The Princess Bride_. But you knew that. Right? If you've read the book, too, you might remember that Buttercup thought that the evil, bald Vizzinni could read her mind. I had a good laugh at that one.  
  
  



	7. Hanging By a Moment

A/N: I forgot to mention this -- besides being unadulterated anti-Xavier, this story will also contain -- gasp -- some New Mutant screen time! And there was much rejoicing! I remembered how in _Joyride_, Lance trained with them when he first arrived. I think that all newbies do untl they've proved themselves worthy, or whatever.  
  
Disclaimer: Lifehouse owns the song, which I absolutely love. The term Uncommon Room is lifted from the Discworld series by Terry Pratchett.  
  
Chapter 6: Hanging By A Moment  
  
The bus ride was probably a lot shorter than it felt. Like every other bus I'd ever been on, it smelled like dust, sweat, perfume, and bubble gum, and the atmosphere was made worse by the jostling, conflicting thoughts of the people all around me.  
  
Partly because I thought it might help, but partly because I wanted to do something normal, I dug out my portable CD player and a mixed disk that my cousin Louie had given me on my last birthday. Anyone who looked would see a slightly distracted-looking teenage boy with unmanageable frizzy hair, wearing a T-shirt that said _To Save Time, I Assume I Know Everything_, and with headphones clamped over both ears. They might wonder briefly where I was headed, what my story was, like I used to do when I was bored on a bus. But they wouldn't be able to guess. Not that I wanted them to. I had already pretty much gathered that this place was supposed to be a big secret.  
  
_Desperate for changing  
Starving for truth  
I'm closer to where I started  
I'm chasing after you  
  
I'm falling even more in love with you  
Letting go of all I've held onto  
I'm standing here until you make me move  
I'm hanging by a moment here with you..._  
  
Faces flashed through my mind. Violet's, with a brave smile that shone through her tears. My father's, as he blamed himself for something that he couldn't seem to understand wasn't his fault. Mom's face, set in stone as she tried not to feel anything. Too late, I tried to think of something I could have said that would have made them feel better about all of this. Something that I could have said to make myself feel better.  
  
_Forgetting all I'm lacking  
Completely incomplete  
I'll take your invitation  
You take all of me now_  
  
Phoebe, as she had looked when I had last seen her, like she was waiting until she got inside to start crying herself. I hoped, for her sake, that she wouldn't have to. That she would know that it had to do this, and it didn't mean I cared about her any less.  
  
I had wanted to kiss her so badly. I was leaving. I didn't have anything left to lose. And she would have time, until she saw me again, to make up her own mind about how she felt. I shouldn't have stopped to think about what the consequences would be. I should have just done it. But even with this... gift (I still couldn't do like Xavier had said and call it that), I had no idea whether she did feel the same way.  
  
_I'm living for the only thing I know  
I'm running and I question where to go  
And I don't know what I'm tapping into  
Just hanging by a moment here with you_  
  
And then there was this new place where I was headed. What would it be like? Were there really other people like me? Would I ever feel normal again?  
  
Don't think about it. Don't act like there's any turning back now.  
  
I hoped I was doing the right thing.  
  
**  
  
You Stephen? asked the first guy to step forward once I got off the bus. He was tall, dark-haired, and looked to be about my age. Dressed like a preppie, except for the red shades.  
  
That's me, I replied. Hey, Scott.  
  
He flinched for a second, then looked like he understood. Very cool.  
  
I tried to sound cheerful. You sure your place has room for another one?  
  
We take all kinds. Ready to go?  
  
I hefted the duffel bag that had seen me through countless vacation trips and two nightmare summers at Camp Owatenna. I didn't open my mouth again until he pointed at a streamlined, red-and-white sports car that was waiting outside. I must have been gaping again.  
  
He grinned. You like it?  
  
It's awesome.  
  
I bought it from a lot a couple years back. The professor helped pay for it, but I was the one to restore it. With school and training, I had to stay up pretty late, but it was worth it.  
  
He kept talking once we were both inside, but (surprise, surprise) I wasn't listening. Even though I didn't even know him, there was something about him that unnerved me. It certainly wasn't anything he'd said, or even anything that I was getting from his mind. It took me a second to realize that it was what I _wasn't_ getting. There was no undercurrent of thoughts coming from Scott as he spoke. None at all.  
  
**  
  
Eight pairs of eyes immediately looked my way when Scott ushered me into what I would soon learn was called the Uncommon Room. Comfy couches, a serious fireplace, and a poster on the ceiling of what looked like three guys oozing pus.  
  
An attractive Asian girl in a yellow raincoat noticed me staring at it. That's Evan's poster. You like the Festering Boils? _He's cute. Maybe he won't talk us into doing things that'll have us washing the X-Jet for three weeks._  
  
I blushed and shook my head. Never heard of them.  
  
You're the new guy, right? The kid who had spoken looked three or four years younger than any of the others. Stanley something, right? _Oh, man, another older kid._  
  
Stephen, actually, came a voice from behind me. It was Professor Xavier, of course. His gifts are similar to my own. Welcome, Stephen. I am glad that you made the right decision. After a long pause, You _can_ answer, you know.  
  
_Oh. Um, thank you._  
  
What are they doing? the younger boy whispered.  
  
The psychic thing, someone else said disdainfully, not bothering to lower his voice. Yo, Steve, I'm Bobby. Or Iceman.  
  
I said. I, um, don't really like being called Steve.  
  
Whatever freezes your ice cube.  
  
Bobby's _so_ funny. The girl in the yellow coat rolled her eyes. I'm Jubilee.  
  
volunteered a blond guy with a southern accent. He thumped the little kid on the shoulder. I blinked; I was seeing double... no, triple... no, quadruple.  
  
I -- I mean, we're Jamie, all four of them said in unison.  
  
I wonder if this one will be worthy.  
  
Bobby looks pissed.  
  
Will any of our minds ever be safe again?  
  
He doesn't look too dangerous.  
  
They've affectionately dubbed themselves the new mutants,' said Xavier. They are the ones whom you'll be training with.  
  
Me? Training with them? I was more confused than ever. I mean, they don't all have the same power as I do, right?  
  
Long silence. Then all eight of them -- Jamie had pulled himself back together, so to speak -- burst into hysterical laughter. Even Xavier looked like he was trying to hide a smile. All will be explained, he assured me when they had quieted down. Hopefully when you meet the others.  
  
There are others? I expected another wave of mocking laughter.  
  
Not only did he not laugh at me, he changed the subject. Jubilee, will you show our newcomer to his room?  
  
Jubilee shrugged her consent.  
  
As we were walking down the hall, she asked me, So what are we gonna call you?  
  
By my name? I suggested. You all seem to know it, right?  
  
When the professor locates a new mutant, Cerebro gives him the name and where that person lives.  
  
_What_ gives him the name... I wasn't following this.  
  
The big supercomputer he uses to track all of us down. _Oh, man, this kid's slow. He's gonna get us all killed someday._  
  
  
  
Has something to do with all that extra mental power. I guess I was staring at her, because she looked confused for a second.   
  
No, I mean how would I get you all killed?  
  
Confusion turned to comprehension. Hey, quit that! she snapped. _It's bad enough that we have Jean snooping around and pretending it was an accident. Ten bucks says he's going to do the same thing._  
  
Double oops.   
  
And in case you heard that too and are wondering, Jean is sort of the teacher's pet. Pretty, smart, popular, multi-talented, and she's always sucking up to Xavier. You'll hate her.  
  
  
  
Evil? Yeah. She thinks that because she can read minds, too, it'll get her extra brownie points. We had ascended a flight of stairs and gone down another hall. But you're different, right? I smelled it on you.  
  
Is that what you do?  
  
She laughed. Oh, boy, I knew it wasn't nice to laugh, but you're making it so hard! Unless you're doing it on purpose. Are you doing it on purpose?  
  
No. This place is just really confusing, and I don't think people would like me looking inside their heads for the answers. An image of Phoebe's face, twisted in anger as I tried to explain that I didn't mean it, flashed in front of my eyes. Do you mind?  
  
Not at all, she said confidently. You should have seen me when I first got here. I was worse than you are. Kitty took me under her wing, though, until I was shunted off to hang with the clowns downstairs.   
  
So what _do_ you do? I asked.  
  
Check this. She held up one hand. Small fireworks crackled in the air around her before exploding. Tabitha could do something like this. I guess she felt upstaged a lot.  
  
Who's Tabitha?  
  
She stopped, like she'd just realized what she'd said. Ooops. Well, I guess since the others aren't around... She trailed off again and started over. Tabitha was part of our group, too. She left not too long ago. It's supposed to be, like, some big scandal. Xavier never said so, but it really ticked him off that he'd lost one.  
  
I was about to ask what had happened to Tabitha, or why they minded Jean but not Xavier snooping in their heads, or what exactly Jubilee did mean by my getting them all killed, or a thousand other questions that I think I was coming up with before I even got on the bus. But I never got the chance, because something had appeared literally out of nowhere and blocked the hallway. Something blue, with pointed ears.  
  
I'm not sure which one of us yelped in surprise first.  
  
He uttered what I thought was an apology -- he had a pretty strong accent. German? Russian? Kurt, didn't you hear we were getting a newbie? Jubilee said in exasperation. They told you to put on your best face.  
  
Vat is the point? Isn't the whole deal vith this place zat ve don't have to hide?  
  
Jubilee sighed. Okay, noted. This is Stephen. I guess he reads minds and stuff. To me, This is Kurt, aka Nightcrawler.  
  
I repeated.  
  
It is my codename. Kurt looked puzzled. Don't you have one yet?  
  
Hey, give the boy time! Jubilee protested. He just got here. He hasn't even met the other X-Men yet. Except for you. And Cyclops.  
  
  
  
Will you stop sounding like some kind of pathetic echo? she retorted.  
  
By then, I had figured it out. Cyclops is Scott? I guessed.  
  
Uh-huh. But there's time for all that later. Meantime, here's your room. She opened the door with a flourish. No roommate for you. Be thankful.  
  
The wallpaper, with some kind of orange and blue pattern, was atrocious, but otherwise, the room wasn't all that bad. Bed in the corner, dresser at the end, night table, desk.  
  
We'll come and collect you later for dinner, she said. You'll meet the others then, and get the full scoop. Is your head spinning yet?  
  
Kind of.  
  
Not good enough. She clicked her tongue. Welcome to the chaos.  
  
And don't say, Kurt added, zat ve did not varn you. 


	8. Burning Bridges

A/N: This story takes place over the course of the second season, just so you know.   
  
Chapter 7: Burning Bridges  
  
Halfway through dinner, as Jubilee had predicted, my head was spinning. Names, powers, and carefully hidden thoughts struck me all at once, and the most I had gathered was which of my new housemates could do what bizarre thing. I had to admit, a couple of them had it much worse than I did. Scott couldn't take off those sunglasses he was wearing without firing lasers from his eyes at whatever was in front of him. Kurt had to wear something called an image inducer whenever he was out in public. And Rogue, the girl with the streaked hair and Goth makeup who sat silently in her chair the whole time, couldn't even touch anyone without absorbing their energy and abilities.  
  
Jean was obviously the most well-adjusted. Jubilee was right -- she was thin and gorgeous with very red hair and a musical voice that made me want to grind my teeth. I mean, Phoebe has a gorgeous voice, too, but at least she doesn't sound like she's singing when she's not.  
  
Worse yet, Jean acted all offended when I picked up a few of her thoughts, like it was my fault. And when I apologized, she became all sweet and complacent again, tossing off a You'll just have to learn, I guess.  
  
Xavier suggested that I tell the others a little bit about myself. I said that I came from Wallglass, aka the Nexus of Nowhere, drawing a laugh from people who were familiar with the area. And that my family tried to pretend like they were okay with what I was, but I could tell that they weren't.  
  
Bobby asked if I'd had to leave any friends behind. I said, duh, didn't everyone? Scott and a couple of other people stiffened at that. Sometimes I forget that my mouth is connected to my brain. A few days with this stupid power and I'm already losing my grip.  
  
Tomorrow after school, you'll start training with the other New Mutants, said Hank, the mansion's other furry resident. We'll start all of you out in the Danger Room.  
  
The what?  
  
The others exchanged the now familiar _god-he's-slow_ look. It's where we train to use our powers, Ms. Munroe explained patiently. We can program simulations to resemble any environment.  
  
There didn't seem to be anything else to say.  
  
You'll also learn some fighting techniques to help you if you should ever run into some of the... more troublesome members of the mutant race.  
  
I guess we should warn you about them ahead of time, said Evan, aka Spyke (you could tell that the name was spelled with a classy little _y_ instead of an _i_). They go to our school. They're mutants, too, but they live across town. Pietro Maximoff -- he made a face -- Todd Tolansky, Freddy Dukes, Lance Alvers --  
  
And Tabitha, right? I interrupted. So that's what happened to her.  
  
Yeah. Quit that, okay?  
  
I said for what felt like the umpteenth time.  
  
said Scott in a decisive kind of voice, they're troublemakers. All of them. They're pretty much the worst that mutantkind has to offer.  
  
Hey, don't, like, say that about Lance! Kitty broke in. She looked totally normal, but apparently she could walk through walls and stuff. And now she was wishing that she could phase into the floor. _What did I say? It just slipped out. Why should I think that we could ever be anything? What's he done for me lately, except tell the whole school what I was?_  
  
The whole school knows what we are? I repeated. At least Kitty, unlike the others, didn't squawk in protest. I thought it was a secret.  
  
It is, she said.  
  
But she was... Saying? Thinking? She sounded like this Lance guy told everyone.  
  
He did. Kurt this time.  
  
We fight the Brotherhood when we have to, Scott was saying. That's what they call themselves.  
  
Do you guys have a name, too?  
  
We're known as the X-Men, Xavier said calmly.  
  
I commented.  
  
All of the students here have personal nicknames, he went on.  
  
I know about some of them, I said helpfully, glad that there was something I knew. Cyclops. Nightcrawler. Inspired, I continued. Spyke. Iceman. I get the idea.  
  
Have you given any thought to a code name for yourself? Jubilee wanted to know.  
  
Code name? What are we, spies? I just learned that I was supposed to have one.  
  
You don't have to, said Jean. I don't.  
  
Scott muttered.  
  
And what's that supposed to mean?  
  
he replied casually, and then stage-whispered, Marvel Girl.  
  
_Not dating_, I decided. _But definitely flirty_. As far as I was concerned, they deserved each other. Jean got on my nerves, and Scott gave me the creeps. It could be that he just had really good mental shields, but there was no indication that he had any thoughts at all. I shook my head. Maybe I was getting more accustomed to this than I thought.  
  
**  
  
The room still didn't feel like mine. Maybe the atrocious wallpaper had something to do with it, or maybe it was the smell, or maybe the absense of my movie posters, of the obligatory shirt draped over the lampshade, of anything familiar. Everyone had seemed nice enough so far, but there was something... else. Nothing that anyone had said or thought or done, and nothing that I had seen. It was more like a heaviness in the atmosphere, like the calm before a hurricane. Or like there was a time bomb somewhere in the house, and the wrong word would set it off.  
  
Maybe it was all that talk about training and fighting and code names, but I had a feeling that there was a lot more to this place than what it seemed. It was something that I had to see for myself, and I wasn't sure I was going to like the answers when I did.  
  
_Stop_, I instructed myself as I finished unpacking. _You're just nervous. And paranoid. And a little homesick, too. It's been a rough few days, but this is all for the best. Really._  
  
All for the best, someone agreed.  
  
I dropped the pile of clothes I was carrying. Who's there?  
  
There was no answer, of course but suddenly my skin prickled, and I had a crazy feeling like I was being watched. I tried to remember if any of these... X-Men had the power to turn invisible. And even if they could, I'd still sense their thoughts, right? Wasn't that how it worked?  
  
It was the longest minute of my life before the feeling had passed. I told myself I had just been hearing things. No fish under the ice.  
  
Thinking about that hurt. A lot.  
  
I knew that I should call her soon, to see if she was okay. I would... as soon as I could tell her that _I_ was.


	9. A Bold New Beginning

Chapter 8: A Bold New Beginning  
  
There are two rules of survival at Bayville High, Bobby lectured as we neared the entrance to the school. One: Blend in with the crowd, or you'll have Duncan and his stormtroopers more than happy to set you straight.  
  
Sounds like Jeff, I muttered.  
  
The other rule is that to be clanless is death, Jubilee put in. Safety in numbers is key. You can ask anyone where anything is if you get lost, but we'll stick by you, just in case.  
  
I noticed that not a few kids were looking at us suspiciously as we passed. What's with the hostility? I whispered.   
  
Forgot to tell you. Sam this time. Us Institute kids aren't exactly well-liked. They think we're a school for the gifted and nothing else, but even knowing that we're different in that way makes them nervous.   
  
That sucks, I commented.  
  
Yeah, but that's how it is. Bobby pointed. Principal Kelly's office is down that hall and around that corner. I gotta get to homeroom. Good luck, Steve! He thumped me on the shoulder and was gone.  
  
Don't call me that.  
  
He glanced back over his shoulder at me. I gave an evil grin -- hopefully he'd never know that I hadn't meant to do that -- and kept walking.  
  
It looked like your basic pre-homeroom scheme. A couple was locked in a romance-novel-perfect embrace in front of a row of lockers, where another girl was impatiently tapping her foot. Not too far off, a group of guys in red-and-gold letter jackets swore to each other in greeting. Nobody even noticed me until I reached the principal's office.  
  
Mr. Kelly had the nervous look of someone who knew that by lunchtime, he would be hiding under his desk to avoid some crisis or other. When he surveyed the forms I handed him, his eyes widened behind his glasses. The Xavier Institute? he read aloud.  
  
I nodded.  
  
There are a lot of new students living there, he commented as he signed the form. _There's something about that name. Something familiar. Why do I get the feeling that there's something I should remember... _and why can't I?  
  
I gritted my teeth to keep from asking what he meant by that. Already I was learning the difference between voices and thoughts, and I didn't want to get any more strange looks.  
  
He handed the papers back to me. Welcome to Bayville High, Mr. Spencer. I'm sure you'll be very happy here.  
  
Already I was beginning to doubt that.  
  
**  
  
I survived the morning, resisting the urge to daydream through a particularly boring geometry class. I'd been the new kid before, and I knew how important it was to make a good impression. I should have known it was too good to last.  
  
I had thought that the cafeteria ladies singing the Spongebob Squarepants song* along with the kid ahead of me in line was going to be the weirdest thing that would happen, but I was wrong.  
  
It started out okay. How's it going? Jubilee asked me as soon as I sat down.  
  
Okay. I have Mr. Beverly for English. Did you know that he doesn't wear any socks?  
  
She rolled her eyes. He explained it to us at the beginning of the year. He read somewhere that socks make you stupid. Go figure. All the teachers are basket cases. Take Ms. Unger. This is her first year, and she knows most of what she knows about teaching from watching _Boston Public_.  
  
I like that show, I said in a really small voice. It's true, and it _was_ for reasons besides the way Jeri Ryan looked in a low-cut blouse (although I wouldn't rule that out as one of the reasons). Violet watched, too, even though she was supposed to be too young and I had to explain everything to her, causing Mom and sometimes Joanne to click their tongues.  
  
Sure, so do I. And if she wants drama and excitement, she definitely picked the right school. But she's really nosy, too. She thinks that whenever any of us is acting a little weird, we're hiding some deep secret. Of course, it applies to our crowd, but it's not like we're going to open up to her.  
  
So nobody knows? I asked.  
  
said Bobby. Professor Xavier wanted it that way. At my skeptical look, he continued. Look, Stephen -- when are you going to come up with a codename, anyway? -- as far as they know, we live at a home for smart people, and they already think we're freaks. What would it be like for us if they knew the truth? Do you think Duncan would keep trying to make a play for Jeannie if he knew?  
  
Scott would be happy, Rahne remarked in her soft accent.  
  
Nah, he'd probably go running to the professor again.  
  
Ten bucks says Xavier's controlling his mind.  
  
He wouldn't do that. Prepare to lose.  
  
I finished my sandwich and went to drop my tray in the garbage. On my way, something stepped into my line of vision. Something very large. Whadda we have here? it demanded.  
  
What indeed? asked a boy with silvery-white hair and what looked to me like a perpetual smirk. New addition to the Geek Squad?  
  
More like to the X-Babies. This came from a guy who looked like an advertisement for Troublemakers R' Us. Shaggy hair, ripped jeans, fingerless gloves, etc., etc., etc.  
  
I don't know what you're talking about, I muttered.   
  
It's cool, said the white-haired kid. We're like you.  
  
That's when I remembered. You're the Brotherhood?  
  
Speaking. Pietro Maximoff, at your service. The X-Geeks have been giving you the lowdown on us, haven't they?  
  
I guess.  
  
Well, it ain't like that, said the one in the fingerless gloves. They're the ones trying to stir things up, not us. And they only tell you what they want you to hear. Just thought we'd tell you.   
  
Um, thanks. I really wanted them out of my way.  
  
You have to believe me. Xavier's controlling them.  
  
Give it a rest, Lance, said Pietro. _When is he going to give it up? I'm beginning to think it was better when Mystique and my -- I mean Magneto were around. Then at least he had something to think about besides increasingly stupid ways to get Kitty-Cat to notice him. _  
  
I'm serious. _Why won't they believe me? I know she really likes me, but it's those X-Geeks that are holding her back. If I got her away from them, then maybe she'd see that I've changed and I won't do anything stupid like dropping a school on her head._  
  
So am I -- seriously sick of your stupid theories about why Kitty won't go out with you! He turned back to me. Even though Lancey-Boy's completely wrong, there's still a lot going on there that you don't know about and aren't going to like when you do. You'd better side with us.   
  
Well, thanks again for the advice, I said loudly. I really wanted them out of my way.  
  
Wait a minute. I could make that happen. Like I did with Jeff.  
  
On the other hand, I didn't even know what I was doing then. And besides, we weren't supposed to make a ruckus in school.  
  
On still another hand, they were getting on my nerves. Move or I'll make you, I said in my best dangerous voice.  
  
Oh, yeah? The huge one -- Freddy -- puffed himself up even more, if that was possible. How're you gonna do that?  
  
I tapped my head. It's all up here.  
  
Silence from the three of them. Oh, man, not another one! Pietro moaned theatrically.  
  
Freddy scratched his mohawk. Another what?  
  
We'll explain it to you when we get home.  
  
I held up three fingers. Three seconds to move, before I turn your brains into vanilla pudding. One, two...  
  
They scattered.  
  
I gave another evil grin and deposited my tray in the trash can. I could definitely get used to this.  
  
I saw zat, said a voice. It was Kurt, wearing his hologram, of course. You know you're not supposed to --  
  
I know. I cut him off. Doesn't look like _they_ do.  
  
Zen you did good.  
  
It was fun. Does that Lance guy have a thing for Kitty, or something?  
  
Kurt swallowed. Zey have a history. Everyone thought she vas over him by the time she got to the Institute. I sure did. But now he's pursuing her again, and she's not exactly pushing him avay. _I thought I could have had her, too. I didn't freak her out by the way I looked, and I actually made her laugh sometimes. Why did he have to come and mess it up?_ He changed the subject and said out loud, Scott says to tell you that he'll be trying you out in the Danger Room right after school.  
  
Sounds exciting.  
  
It is. He grinned. Who knows. Maybe they'll go easy because you're new.  
  
**  
  
I thought you said they'd go easy! I all but wailed. I was bruised in places I hadn't even known existed.  
  
I said _maybe_. I should have known that Logan vould be merciless.   
  
An hour of rolling on the ground and big metal things hitting me in the head! And did he have to call me Badger?  
  
You _are_ varing a T-shirt that says Rabid Shaft Badger,' he pointed out. Pick a name fast, or this one's going to stick.  
  
I can't think of anything that goes with what I can do. Maybe I'll ask Xavier for advice when he's training me not to hear things. If you think locker-room _talk_ is bad --   
  
Kurt said sympathetically.  
  
And that's just the kids. Wait'll you hear what Mr. Barton really thinks of the lady in the office...  
  
*A/N: I don't own Spongebob Squarepants, and I'm glad. But our cafeteria ladies are also fans, so I have heard them singing the song. And my English teacher went sockless once, too.  
  
I hope you don't mind me scrapping the Obligatory Danger Room Scene. I hate them, and I can't write about things I hate. Except Xavier.


	10. Messiah

A/N: I don't own the movie _Life of Brian_; Monty Python does.  
  
Chapter 9: Messiah  
  
By Friday, I was more or less getting the hang of things. Keeping my head together in school was getting a little bit easier, thanks to some instruction I'd received from Xavier. _Imagine a reinforced wall inside your head, blocking out any thoughts that might strike it. After a while, it will just come naturally._ No such luck yet, but it had only been a couple of days.  
  
And, of course, I knew that I had to call home and let them know that I hadn't killed myself or been kidnapped by aliens or something. Mom answered on the first ring.  
  
Guess who? I asked.  
  
Stephen? Baby?  
  
Hey, Mom, I said, hoping I sounded more or less normal.  
  
How are you? Dad had picked up the extension.  
  
I'm okay.  
  
We're sorry we didn't call until now.  
  
It's okay. I've been pretty busy. School. Training.  
  
Have you been learning how to control your... problem? Mom asked.  
  
Dad sighed.  
  
Well, that's what he's there for, isn't it?  
  
I don't think he likes the way you phrased that.  
  
I am still here, I reminded them.  
  
Of course you are. She seemed puzzled as to why I'd even said that.  
  
It's getting a little better, I guess.  
  
Good. Are you making friends there?  
  
I told them about Bobby, Kurt, and Jubilee, but before I could mention their powers, Dad took over, telling me about a new turn the show was taking, how they had decided to kill off Pierre in a plane accident and were working on an anti-irate-fan-letter plan. Maybe he was hoping that I wouldn't get the point. I did, and it didn't make me happy.  
  
Your sister wants to say something before you get off the phone, Mom said at last. Please call us soon, dear. We love you.  
  
I echoed it, then heard Violet say, Hang on a sec, I need to take it into the other room. After a long pause, I tried to call yesterday. I wanted to warn you it would be like this.  
  
Be like what?  
  
I couldn't fool her. Like _this_, she said, exasperated. Them pretending like this is no big deal, when they totally think that it is. Joanne came over yesterday, and they yakked for about a million hours.  
  
About me?  
  
A little, and about Phoebe, too.  
  
I sat up straighter. What about her?  
  
She's a wreck. She doesn't look like she's slept for days. Joanne says that she spends all her time up in her room. I can tell she misses you.  
  
I was going to call her.  
  
Joanne thinks that Phoebe should be the one to call you. Most of her ideas are pretty flaky, but this seems like a good one. She has to take the first step, or something like that. I could practically see her making a face. I think she's been reading self-help books again.  
  
I bet. Starting when we were in eighth grade, Phoebe's mom started buying those books with titles like _Our Children, Ourselves_, positive that the answer to raising a perfect teenager lay somewhere in their pages. The twins and I stole one of them once and laughed ourselves stupid over chapters such as Cycles of Influence and The Walls Between.  
  
Can I tell you something, Stevie? Violet whispered.  
  
  
  
Promise you won't get mad?  
  
  
  
Can you try?  
  
I sighed. Of course.  
  
I think that Xavier guy is a real creep. During my silence, she said quickly, When I told Mommy and Daddy, they acted like I was crazy. Maybe I am. But he kept looking at all of us like he wanted to...  
  
Eat us up? I tried to keep the condescension out of my voice. Couldn't.  
  
she said impatiently. Not exactly. More like he wanted to add us to some sort of collection. Am I making sense?  
  
Not really. Sorry. Violet was so smart that sometimes I forgot that she was just a kid, and little kids had these weird fears sometimes. She had just gotten over the idea that there was a ghost in the closet that would possess her if she opened the door while she was sleeping. Where she got the word to describe something like this, I'll never know.  
  
But Phoebe hadn't liked him, either.  
  
Well, that made sense. He'd obviously gone in her mind without permission, and freaked her out, because she'd never encountered anything like him before. He was a complete unknown to her, and that scared her. Typical.  
  
I blinked. Where had _that_ thought come from?  
  
Are you still there? Violet was asking me.  
  
Yeah. I don't think you have anything to worry about. I can take care of myself.  
  
Right. Big superhero type.  
  
We're not superheroes here, Vi. Even though these battle simulations made it look kind of like we were.  
  
You had better be able to take care of yourself. I might have to hire Angelina to come to that place and kick some ass.  
  
I laughed at that. Hey, baby sister, I miss you. I could hear footsteps in the background, followed by, You done yet?  
  
Just a sec, Violet said. She blurted out a hasty, Miss you too. Then the line went dead.  
  
**  
  
Phoebe called the next day. I wondered if any of the others were jealous that I was on the phone so much. Anyway, I passed the Uncommon Room just as Jamie hissed to Bobby and Amara, Dude, some girl wants to talk to Stephen! Amara giggled behind her cupped hands.  
  
I was in there like a lightning bolt, knocking Jamie over as I grabbed the phone. all five of him shouted.  
  
I snapped, waving my hand at the others for them to clear out, which they did.  
  
Her voice turned the word into part of a song. She sure didn't sound like a wreck. It's me, some girl.  
  
I felt like I could actually jump up and down, even though I knew that would look weird. All of a sudden, it didn't matter. Funny how just her voice could do that to me. I didn't think you'd call.  
  
Well, you were wrong, Phoebe said simply. I could picture her lying on her bed with her feet pointed toward the ceiling, or maybe standing by her desk with the phone cord wrapped around her waist. Tell me everything.  
  
I knew that I couldn't do that. I could just imagine how she'd react to some of the we'd been on, to the geeky uniforms, to Xavier's lecture about how with great power came great responsibility. Put together, it did sound kind of superhero-esque. Which really didn't make sense -- if we were the good guys, then who were the bad guys supposed to be?  
  
But I told her most of it, and I think she believed me. We talked until Scott tapped me on the shoulder. We're off to the Danger Room. You coming?  
  
Jubilee rolled her eyes.  
  
The professor says you all need to keep practicing, Scott snapped. To me, Finish up.  
  
I'll be right there. I waited until he was gone, then continued. Listen, Phoebe, I gotta go. I'm really glad you called. Understatement of the year. I hesitated, then said, Tell me again how much you miss me.  
  
I miss you so much.  
  
I inhaled deeply. Tell me that it doesn't matter.  
  
It doesn't matter, she said immediately. Hang in there.  
  
You, too.  
  
I hung up and hurried to catch up with the others. I had let on that I wanted her to assure me again that it didn't matter what I was, and she had believed it. What I really meant was that I wanted to know for certain that she would always be there, no matter what. I needed to know that. It was one of the things that was keeping me going.  
  
**  
  
Afterward, we were sitting in the Uncommon Room, getting ready to watch a movie. Amara was curled in the crook of Roberto's arm, and Sam had won a fierce rock-paper-scissors fight for the beanbag chair. Rahne had to content herself with one of the couches. Jamie, despite a patronizing You're too young from Ray, was perched on the arm. Bobby was lying on his stomach on the rug, and I sat at one end of the other couch. Jubliee placed a bowl of caramel popcorn on the coffee table with a flourish and indicated the space next to me. Mind if I sit?  
  
Not at all.  
  
The movie was _Life of Brian_, one of my favorites. We all laughed at just the right moments and shouted our favorite scenes along with the characters. During one point, I ended up the only one yelling, I am not the messiah!'  
  
Only the true messiah would deny that he is one!' Jubilee and the lady in the movie cried together.  
  
I threw up my hands in mock surrender. 'All right, all right, I am the messiah!'  
  
HE'S THE MESSIAH! everyone practically screamed.  
  
I can relate, I muttered after the movie was over.  
  
How so? Jubilee asked.  
  
I'm in a no-win situation with my family. When I denied what I was, everyone got mad at me. And now that I'm actually getting used to it, they act all stiff.  
  
Then that's what we'll call you, she said decisively.  
  
  
  
No, silly. Messiah. That'll be your new codename. What do you think?  
  
I made a face. It sounds kind of pretentious. And I don't want evil mutants _and_ religious fanatics after me.  
  
Nothing like that'll happen.  
  
There's a lot of baggage that comes with a name like that, I insisted. What if someone thinks I have to save the world?  
  
Well, it beats the heck out of Badger, doesn't it?  
  
I guess it does. I said the name a couple of times under my breath, trying to get the feel of it. It wasn't until later that I realized she hadn't answered my question.  
  



	11. Send Me a Sign

Chapter 10: Send Me A Sign  
  
It's not as difficult as it looks, Xavier said.  
  
It is for me, I muttered. A fire was crackling merrily in the study fireplace. It didn't match my mood. Anyway, easy for you to say. You've been doing stuff like this for... how long?  
  
Longer than I care to measure. He smiled, and for a fraction of a second, I could see why he had creeped Phoebe out so much. It's all about visualization, Messiah. Just like the shielding techniques. Picture yourself working your way inside that person's mind. He noticed that I was mouthing the words along with him, and looked like he was trying to keep from smiling again.  
  
Last time I tried, Scott jumped up like something had bit his ass... sorry, I said quickly. I mean, he could tell right away.  
  
Scott is... sensitive to deliberate mental probes, you might say. I'm not sure exactly why this is. Have you experimented on a less wary target?  
  
I didn't like him referring to them as I didn't like it at all. Yeah. No luck with them, either. Why am I even learning to do this, anyway?  
  
There will times, during your missions with the X-Men, that you might have need for information that people refuse to give you.  
  
Can't Jean do that?  
  
Jean's greatest strength lies in mental communication, and, of course, her powers of telekinesis. Yours will lie in extracting thoughts without the knowledge of the subject...  
  
If we ever get that far, I said. I knew what he must think of me. I was a lost cause. I was a disappointment to him. I was...  
  
...Acting like a creepazoid zombie. Yes, Master. Good grief.  
  
We will. And also in thought manipulation.  
  
I snapped out of my funk. Thought _what_?  
  
He started to repeat what he'd said.  
  
No, no, I heard you. You want me to learn how to control people's minds?  
  
Does that thought make you uncomfortable?  
  
I didn't answer.  
  
You can tell the truth, he coaxed.  
  
A little. I didn't even know I could do that.  
  
You paralyzed a group of bullies at your school without even knowing what you were doing. Imagine what you would be capable of through concentrated thought. I wasn't lying when I said that you had excellent potential.  
  
I imagined. Much as I knew how much trouble I'd get into if I'd actually carried out my threat against the Brotherhood, it would have been interesting, to say the least. When I'd struck back at Jeff and the others, I'd been too scared to think about what it might mean. I had thought that doing that again would be the eighth deadly sin... but that was before it had occurred to me that I could learn to control it, to stop people at will. Nobody would ever make fun of me again, or diss me for not knowing what I was good at... and Phoebe... if I could make her notice me, make her understand...  
  
Wait a second. What was I thinking there? She was one of the most important people in my life. I would never hurt her by messing with her mind, even if it was  
  
for her own good  
  
the only way I could get her to think what I wanted.  
  
_No, no!_ I liked her the way she was, maybe, even, I...  
  
know that she has to change if we can ever be together she hates what I am she won't accept it  
  
_Stop_! The voice that was speaking to me wasn't like the ones that I had heard before I came to the Institute. It was insistent, direct, and it sounded a lot like it came from inside my own head. But it couldn't have, because it _wasn't_ my thought.  
  
Not for the first time, I realized how much I hated this.  
  
**  
  
The first snow day of the year found all nine of us engaged in a snowball fight to the death. Me, Bobby, Jubilee, and two Jamies against Amara, Roberto, Ray, Rahne, and Sam. We took turns hiding in the snow fort, courtesy of Bobby, and venturing out to pelt the others with snow.  
  
No fair! You guys got Iceman! Rahne squealed as she threw herself to the ground.  
  
Life isn't always fair! I called back. And what's with the codenames?  
  
This is a battle, isn't it? Bobby pointed out.  
  
I guess. Duck! I wondered if school was out for Phoebe and Violet, too. We used to get together on snow days to go sledding or skating, then go back to my house for hot chocolate.  
  
Amara shot a jet of fire that disintigrated the fort. She clapped her hands. What'd you just say about life not being fair? Jamie and Bobby, who had been holed up there, exchanged we're-in-trouble glances.  
  
Time out! I made a with my hands. From now on, no powers allowed. Capeesh?  
  
What does capeesh' mean? Jamie piped up.  
  
I have no idea. No powers, okay?  
  
Who died and made you the fearless leader? Sam demanded.  
  
I shrugged.  
  
Okay, Cyclops, whatever you say.  
  
Just for that, you die first!  
  
The snowball fight ended in a draw, and the others -- my friends -- raced each other inside, as a tiebreaker, I guess.  
  
I watched them leave. it wasn't like I had never had friends before. I still missed Isobel's cynical outlook, Kevin's offbeat but usually very true advice, and Phoebe... well, I missed everything about her, from the greenish tint in her eyes to the way she listened so sympathetically. The three of them had always been good to me, so it wasn't like I was complaining about them, either. They had made me feel like I belonged, that it didn't matter that I wasn't sure who I was. I would be paying attention (sort of) to something that Scott or Storm of one of the teachers at school was saying, and suddenly I would be wondering how the old gang would react to this or that. Growing up with them had been better than I ever could have hoped for.  
  
But things were different now. I hated to admit it, but it was true. Before, I'd been the group's comic relief, the class clown who didn't know the meaning of teen angst and didn't really see the point of taking life seriously, who'd been content with living for now and putting off reality for as long as possible... until it had reached up and slapped me in the face. Somewhere between avoiding conflicts with the Brotherhood and projecting mental distractions at our holographic enemies while the others headed toward the finish line, I had become something else. I had become some_one_ else.   
  
And I wasn't completely sure that my old friends would like that person.  
  
There was a lake bordering the grounds of the Institute, smaller than the one back home but still the right size for boating in the summer and, in the winter, ice fishing. There was someone out there now, waiting patiently for the fish to bite. Almost without hesitation, I sent out, There are no fish under the ice! and watched as the poor sap looked around, confused.  
  
  
  
Hey, Jubes, I said without turning around.  
  
she accused, coming to stand beside me.  
  
  
  
Why didn't you come inside? she asked.  
  
I felt like being alone.  
  
I don't blame you. There isn't a lot of peace and quiet in that place. Someone's always after you to do this, do that. But it's worth it... I guess.  
  
I'm used to it.  
  
What do you mean?  
  
I've never really known what it was like to be alone, I explained. I always had someone nearby who cared about me. My parents, before they started getting weird. My friends. I guess I was lucky, but the problem is...  
  
...you never get to be by yourself, she finished. You never get to _be_ yourself. Am I right?  
  
More or less. I always had someone who wanted me to be something. And when that something wasn't what they expected, they freaked out. Jubes?  
  
  
  
What did your parents think of you being a mutant?  
  
She didn't answer for the longest time, just stared at the snow beneath her feet. She only opened her mouth again to speak the words I now knew she would say: My parents were killed in a break-in when I was thirteen.  
  
I stepped back. I'm... sorry.  
  
There was no way you could have known. She gave a sad smile. Well, I guess there was. But I can tell that you didn't. So it's okay. When I started to speak again, she held up a hand. Don't make me zap you. I _said_ it was okay.   
  
But I could tell that it obviously wasn't.  
  
I lived with a foster family for a while afterward, but we weren't exactly close. I guess you could say that I really lived at the mall. I spent all my time there when I wasn't in school. I don't even know if those people I lived with know what happened to me.  
  
Her story was so far from the plastic-wrapped world I was used to that it seemed almost like I'd seen it in a movie or something. So, come winter break, are you going to stay here, like Rogue and Scott?  
  
I'll be staying with some friends in the city. I know that I said that I liked being alone, but the idea of being here with so few people, it... makes me nervous. I'm not sure why. So, what's your story?  
  
I told her about my parents and Violet, about Kevin, Isobel, Phoebe and her family. When I was done, Jubilee sighed, like she'd just finished a really good meal. It sounds... wonderful.  
  
I guess it was.  
  
So did your parents throw you out of the house, or what?  
  
I shook my head. No. They were as supportive as I could've expected, under the circumstances.  
  
Then what made you decide to come here?  
  
Like she had, I hesitated before answering. I was scared.  
  
She nodded, and I knew she really did understand. Me, too. I still am, sometimes. I guess that most ordinary people don't really, really understand what it's like to be scared like this.  
  
The blissful masses?  
  
Something like that.  
  
The sky was darkening, and I suddenly remembered another twilight, another lake, another girl who I wanted so desperately to heal yet knew I couldn't. But I pushed that thought away and took Jubilee's hand. She made no comment, but didn't let go until we were back inside.


	12. Be Of Good Cheer

Chapter 11: Be Of Good Cheer  
  
I was hoping to have some time at home over Christmas break, and possibly spend some of it with Phoebe. No such luck. My first day back, Mom told me not to unpack, that we were going to New Haven to visit Uncle Albert and Aunt Evelyn, and we had better behave ourselves. Or else.  
  
I do not have good memories of my relatives. Albert is a mathematician who's always in some sort of trigonometric trance, and Evelyn acts like the Energizer Bunny on pep pills. Violet and I used to come up with a Plan of Survival whenever we had to visit them, but now that I'd gotten a taste of what it was like to be involved in a real mission, the game had kind of lost its flavor.  
  
It had started to sleet like crazy, and I was resting my head against the window, trying to imagine when I'd see her again, trying to decide if it was even worth the effort. While Dad tried to find a radio station that was playing something besides Christmas carols, Mom informed me that Phoebe had let my secret (I wondered whether she had made a list of euphemisms or was simply making them up on the spot) slip to Angelina, which somehow was a very big deal according to my parents.  
  
As we passed through the town, Mom spoke again. I want you all to remember to be courteous to your relatives and their friends. That means no rude remarks, no looking bored, and no saying _anything_ that might upset them. This with a meaningful look in my direction.   
  
I understood, all right.  
  
**  
  
Stephen, why did the dinosaur cross the road? demanded a small boy in a _Digimon_ T-shirt.  
  
I'd humored him in the past, but right now I just wasn't in the mood. Because they hadn't...  
  
Violet stomped on my foot. I don't know, Peter. Why?  
  
Because they hadn't invented chickens yet! Peter crowed. I asked for a new joke book from Santa. What'd you ask for?  
  
Violet verbalized a bit of her own list. She had hated Santa Claus even when she had believed in him, ever since Mom had taken her to sit in his lap at a department store when she was three. She'd heard him ho-ho-ho once and screamed her head off. But I knew that she was just doing this to make six-year-old Peter happy, or, more likely, to keep him out of her carefully and reluctantly curled hair. Even before he had scampered off, she was searching the room for Melissa, the cousin closest to her age. There weren't any remotely close to mine.  
  
No sooner had Vi moved away from me in search of Melissa than Aunt Evelyn, Aunt Marcia, and some cousin -- Heidi or Hillary -- descended on us all at once, chattering and cooing. You know that scene in _Being John Malkovich_ when John goes through the portal into his own head, and everyone's talking at once, but all they're saying is Malkovich, Malkovich, Malkovich? That was what it was like for me, except they were saying, Look how much you've grown! and Charity tells me you've been away at school -- do you like it there? and You must have all the girls chasing after you!  
  
Phoebe's face was the first that popped into my mind, except she hadn't been chasing after me -- she hadn't been the type. Jubilee was (I remembered how during a training session, she'd ignored Rahne, whom she was supposed to save, and me), and it wasn't like I didn't know how she felt about me, but I also knew that I wasn't the only one who was interested in her.  
_  
Hey, Steve? Bobby asked when we were alone together at lunch.  
  
Don't call me that, I responded automatically.   
  
You think Jubes likes me?  
  
Maybe. How would I know?  
  
Oh, you know. He gave me what was supposed to be a meaningful look.  
  
I don't think that's really a good idea.  
  
Come on, you don't really believe the Prof's whole thing about how we shouldn't use our powers for selfish reasons, do you?  
  
I carefully avoided his question. It's just that I don't think I'd be able to do it without being caught. I don't have that much practice yet. Actually, I was thinking about all the times I'd read Phoebe's mind by accident, and how she'd reacted. I didn't want to go through any of that again if I could help it.  
  
Fortunately, the bell rang just then, and neither of us mentioned it again._  
  
Now, I looked around the darkened living room, from where Dad and Uncle Albert were conversing in a corner to where Violet and Melissa were sitting together in another corner to where Peter had, for the third time that evening, gotten himself tangled in the Christmas lights. It was as picture-perfect as a holiday card, and I was struck by the thought that I'd been experiencing more and more lately: that I did not belong with these people.  
  
**  
  
So, how is this special school of yours? Aunt Evelyn asked me.  
  
With all of them talking at once, I'd been able to avoid answering her before. It's okay, I mumbled into my mashed potatoes.  
  
Your grades must have improved for them to even have considered you.  
  
I guess. It worked, because she gave a little how-modest chuckle. Is it an exclusive school? was her next interrogation.  
  
Oh, I would say so, Mom said in that I-know-something-you-don't-know voice that I knew she'd picked up from Joanne.   
  
She was merciless, and I was losing patience. I knew that Xavier had a point about not letting people know about us, but my parents were going about it all wrong. They're using his request to keep this to themselves as an excuse to pretend that if nobody else knows about it, it isn't really happening, Vi had whispered to me at one point. It's like some sort of dirty secret. I hate it, Stevie.  
  
I hate it too, I d whispered back. What, did they think that I'm still afraid of what I am?  
  
The meal descended into a conversational hum. I could hear Aunt Marcia beg Dad for information about the show, everything from whether the little girl was really Kyra's daughter to why Pierre's body was never found after the helicopter crash. He gave a mysterious smile that I knew he'd been perfecting, too. Uncle Eugene was telling Violet and Melissa some story about when he was a kid and used to play practical jokes on his parents at parties. I remembered how Bobby and I had once set Evan's mattress afloat in the pool while he was sleeping, and how I'd gained Ray's confidence when I'd found out that he'd been the one to reprogram the Danger Room so it looked like a life-sized Candy Land, and actually felt like smiling for the first time that evening.  
  
My good mood vanished, however, because of a chance comment from Uncle Albert. He'd been sitting silently for most of the meal, and we'd all assumed he was contemplating some sort of mathematical conundrum that was far beyond us mere mortals. But now he was staring very critically at Heidi. Coral Passion, he said suddenly.  
  
We all kind of stared.  
  
Her lipstick, he explained. That's what kind it is.  
  
Heidi nodded, mystified. You're right. How'd you know?  
  
He must be a mutant or something! Peter exclaimed. Are you, Uncle Albert?  
  
Peter, where did you hear about such things? Mom asked in a fake casual voice that set my teeth on edge.  
  
Everyone at school's talking about mutants. That they're freaks with special powers, and they could be anyone.  
  
I think that he's been playing a few too many video games, Uncle Eugene said to nobody in particular.  
  
It's not from a game, said Melissa softly. I've heard it, too.  
  
I wouldn't rule it out, Aunt Marcia remarked. More things on heaven and earth and all that.  
  
What would you think if it was true? I couldn't help asking.  
  
She shrugged. I don't know. I don't imagine that they'd know what to think of themselves.  
  
She had a point there.  
  
I'd stomp'em out, another cousin, Louis, volunteered. People've already got enough troubles without adding a bunch of freaks into the mix.   
  
Besides, who knows what they could do to us? Dana put in. I've heard just as many things as the rest of you, and not all of them are good. The world should be left to the people who were there first, not some new species that could turn on us at any moment. Just like in all those movies you see.  
  
Yeah, where they try to attack cities and take over the world! Peter said excitedly.  
  
This whole thing is ridiculous, Mom said firmly. Mutants don't exist, any more than the Abominable Snowman or aliens from outer space. They're just a paranoid fantasy dreamed up by people who have too much spare time on their hands and want to make money by scaring innocent people. And she shot the three of us a conspiratorial wink. _See? I'm handling it. None of them suspect a thing._  
  
I didn't think I could stand it anymore. I didn't know what was worse -- my relatives' prejudice or my family's self-righteous attitude. I had to literally bite my tongue to keep my mouth shut.  
  
Violet showed no such indecision. There are times when my sister is literally wise beyond her years, so smart that it scares me. This wasn't one of them. Mom, stop it! she snapped, throwing down her fork. All of you stop it! You wouldn't judge mutants if you knew one, would you?  
  
Vi, what are you talking about? Dad asked through a nervous smile.  
  
Dana's eyes had a bright look to them that I didn't like at all. Do tell.  
  
None of it is -- Mom tried to begin again.  
  
Mommy, give it a rest, will you? You know that mutants are real, and Stephen is one of them, and he's tired of pretending like it's not true. He told me himself.  
  
Silence reigned. People who had been chewing stopped midchew, and every single person in the room stared at me, just like everyone had stared at me when Xavier had dropped this same bombshell. And, like that other time, I had no idea what I was going to say or do next.  
  
And as soon as I thought that, I realized that I knew _exactly_ what to do next.  
  
  
  
  
  



	13. So Lonely Inside

Chapter 12: So Lonely Inside  
  
_If you can freeze those jerks who were trying to beat you up, you can fix this.  
  
I don't know how.  
  
What's not to know? You wanted Jeff to stop and he did. If you want them to forget, they will.  
  
What if I make my parents and Violet forget, too? What if that?_  
  
Violet has an overactive imagination, Dad was saying.  
  
my sister began.  
  
Stephen, what do you have to say about this? Heidi asked through Coral Passion lips.  
  
I don't know what she's talking about, either, I forced out.  
  
_Do it now! They'll never know!  
  
It's not worth it!  
  
NOW!_  
  
Maybe my parents saw the glazed, passive look that stole over my relatives' faces. Maybe not. But when Mom changed the subject, nobody brought it up again. I could barely manage a May I be excused? and bolted from the table.  
  
In a guest room decorated in oversized, tasteless flowers, I perched on the windowsill and squinted at the neighbors' red and green lights through the falling snow. Violet poked her head in the door. I'm sorry, she whispered. I didn't think it would hurt anyone.  
  
Under no circumstances would I tell her how wrong she was, or how glad I was that she even remembered. It's okay.  
  
I'm just sick of treating you like a dirty secret.  
  
Somehow I made myself smile. Hey, you think I like being one? But you shouldn't have told them. You never know who might take something like this seriously.  
  
I know. Do you think Mommy and Daddy are going to be mad at me?  
  
Tell them what you just told me, I suggested.  
  
I've tried, but they don't listen. You know that. She smiled. Maybe I'll just say that the devil made me do it.  
  
She expected me to laugh, but I didn't.  
  
she whispered.  
  
  
  
Do you miss Phoebe?  
  
I looked at her in surprise.   
  
I'm sorry you didn't get to see her.  
  
Me, too.  
  
I used to think you guys would make a great couple.  
  
Now I was practically gaping. No kidding?  
  
She edged a little further into the room and sat down next to me on the atrocious bedspread. No kidding. Remember when you took her to the Halloween dance?  
  
Sure. It was the same year we got all that candy. You were a Frankensteinette.  
  
Isobel did my makeup, she recalled. But the night before, your school had a big dance, and you and Phoebe went together. She dressed like she was in a motorcycle gang, and you were --  
  
A cereal killer. I grinned. How do you remember all of this?  
  
How could I forget how nervous you were? Do you think she'll like my costume? Do you think I'll sound like an idiot? This is my first date. I don't know the rules!' But I saw the pictures later. You two looked perfect together.  
  
I've liked her for years. And there it was, out in the open.  
  
Vi responded with another, After a pause, she asked, Do you think you'd ever tell her that?  
  
I think I would have, eventually, if...  
  
Why does that have to make any difference?  
  
I thought about that for a long time. I mean, I was one of them, wasn't I? I didn't want to think about anything bad happening to Bobby, Kurt, Jubilee (who had given me a very enthusiastic embrace the day we'd all left on break), or any of the others. And I knew what would happen if the witnesses had been allowed to get away with everything Lance had told them. So the professor had done the right thing then, no question about it. I just didn't think that what Violet had done fell into the same category.  
  
God, I wished I could see her again. She was the only person who had neither treated me like a freak nor like I was supposed to live up to my code name. And how was I supposed to know whether she really understood or not? After all, what did I look like, a mind reader?  
  
This time, I did laugh. I was suddenly very jealous of Jubilee, Scott, Rogue, and all the others who had left their old lives behind so easily.  
  
And on top of all of that, there was the voice in my head that had spoken up just after Violet had spilled the beans on me. I was no stranger to that kind of thing, but I thought I'd learned to control it, and anyway, why would anyone at the table _want_ me to erase their memories?  
  
Why had I done it? What gave me the right?  
  
**  
  
I told Xavier about it practically as soon as I got back, right up to the point where I had resisted the urge to listen to the voice. It simply sounds as if your common sense was speaking up for you, he said. Maybe you're not used to that.  
  
I didn't want to do it.  
  
You felt a need to protect your friends. Why are you ashamed of that?  
  
If we're already hiding, then what's the point? I protested.   
  
No matter how carefully we hid ourselves, people are always going to talk, even if the ones who insisted that mutants were real are usually dealt with in the same way as people who claim to have been abducted by aliens or to have come face-to-face with the Devil, or been rescued by angels.  
  
I'd heard about Rogue and Scott's adventure in New York City. But... I mean, I just don't think I should go around deciding what people remember, just because they heard something that I didn't want them to hear. I remembered what I'd since learned about the infamous soccer game incident, and felt my ears turn red.  
  
The circumstances were, after all, quite different from those at the soccer game. You showed good instinct, but you've finally understood that with great power...  
  
Comes great responsibility? I finished for him.  
  
He looked surprised. Clearly, you're better at this than I thought.  
  
No, it's just that that's one of the oldest lines in the book. He still looked clueless. Never mind.  
  
Very well. Now, I understand that with power like this, the possibilities are endless. But you have to choose your moments. There are mutants who use their powers to get what they want. Is that what you are worried that you might do?  
  
I admitted. Like, getting lots of money, or punishing people who insulted them, or... I hestitated, then plunged on. Or getting people to fall in love with them?  
  
People like the young lady who came to visit you the same day I did? What was her name?  
  
Why did I have the funny feeling that he really did remember? I mean, we're just friends right now, but if what you just said about me is true, and I really can... then it would be easy to make her like me, wouldn't it?  
  
When I first realized this about myself, I felt the same way. I have been where you are, even if it doesn't seem like it. In my case, she was forced into marriage with another. I was tempted to coerce her into returning to me, but I never did it. I knew that if I robbed her of her free will, I would be no better than the ones I was fighting against. But the urge was there, and at times, it will be your deadliest enemy. He changed the subject abruptly. I thought that today we'd continue with your shielding excercises.  
  
I thought I already knew how to...  
  
You know how to keep from hearing the thoughts of others. But did you think that you, Jean, and myself were the only mutants in the world who could control people's minds?  
  
I hadn't really thought about it.  
  
I won't do anything that will cause permanent damage, he assured me. Now, remember what we discussed. A reinforced wall, right?  
  
I did as he asked, and just in time...  
  
**  
  
Xavier told me later that I'd used up too much energy trying to fend off his mental assault, and collapsed. He'd summoned Kurt, who'd ported me back to my own room. The first thing I saw when I woke up was a furry blue face peering down at me. Ve thought zat you vere never going to vake up, Kurt said cheerfully.  
  
How do you feel? Jubilee asked.  
  
Like my first day of training, when they shot those big metal things at my head. I winced. But more so.  
  
It vill pass.  
  
I should hope so. Who's Amanda, anyway?  
  
Kurt stared at me suspiciously. If you vere...  
  
No. Xavier mentioned her. Come on, tell me. I could use the distraction. I sat up with a groan.  
  
Okay. Jubilee, vould you mind leaving?  
  
she said with an evil grin that rivalled mine.  
  
He sighed. Very vell. She is ze black girl with ze beaded braids, in my math class. Very smart and very pretty. I have liked her for a long time, but whenever I try to talk to her, I get nervous and turn purple.  
  
  
  
Vell, red. But I am told it looks purple.  
  
Can I ask you a question?  
  
he said immediately.  
  
If you did finally ask her out, and you two got to know each other... I searched for the right words. Would you ever tell her...  
  
Vat? That I look like this?  
  
I nodded.  
  
I suppose that if it got to the point vere I couldn't lie to her, I vould tell her part of the truth. But not the whole thing.  
  
What wouldn't you tell her?  
  
About the true purpose of the Institute. You know that ve're more than just mutants here. Ve are the X-Men. Can you think of any girl -- any _person_ -- from the outside vorld who'd accept that?  
  
The more I told myself I didn't want to think about it, the more I ended up turning what he'd said over and over in my mind. And, logically, the more I thought about it, the more right I realized he was. Even if Phoebe was okay with the fact that I was a mutant, how would she react to the whole superhero deal that even I couldn't deny anymore? Could the two of us possibly be together even if I didn't tell her the truth?  
  
I wasn't sure. But I knew that what I had done at the Christmas party was one more reminder that I was a freak, one more thing that forever separated me from my old life, and one more piece of evidence that whenever I goofed up my powers, the only person who suffered any long-term consequences was me.  
  
  
  



	14. The Devil You Know

Chapter 13: The Devil You Know  
  
The mansion was literally abuzz with talk of the upcoming Sadie Hawkins dance. Amara had asked Roberto, Kurt was hoping that Amanda would invite him, Kitty was going with Lance (who had somehow made the transition from Bayville's Most Wanted to... well, something), and Jean and Scott were avoiding each other in a state of angst that made me almost lucky to be in the situation that I was in. No girl had asked me yet.  
  
What about that cheerleader who's always making eyes at you from across the field? Bobby asked.  
  
I can't believe you're even suggesting this.  
  
It'll be easy. Pick your girl of choice, make a little... ahem... suggestion that you're the one for her, and presto, there's your date.  
  
We're not supposed to --  
  
Blah, blah, blah. You sound like Scooter.  
  
The last time anyone went along with your ideas, they ended up waxing the jet for a week, I insisted. And anyway, it would be wrong.  
  
I don't believe this. You do like girls, right? When I didn't answer, he held up his hands. Hey, it would be okay if you didn't. Case you haven't figured it out, we take all kinds here.  
  
I like them, I assured him. I just don't have all that much... experience.  
  
It just comes naturally.  
  
That seems to be everyone's answer, I said almost to myself.  
  
If there's anyone you want me to talk to, just say the word.  
  
I said halfheartedly. If only there was a word that could solve all our problems. I could say it and turn back the clock, back to a time when I could make the most of what little time I had left.  
  
**  
  
What if he goes off with his friends and leaves me? Kitty asked anxiously. She, Rogue and I were sitting at the table, studying. Well, supposedly. We all had our books open, but the two of them were talking and I was listening in. Neither of them noticed.  
  
I thought you told me the others weren't even going, Rogue told her.  
  
No, I heard Pietro agree to go with someone today.  
  
Well, then, he'll be too busy with her.  
  
But what if he goes off with some other girl?  
  
Why would he do that? Rogue sounded disgusted.  
  
I don't know. Kitty sighed, glanced down at her book, then looked up again. It's just that whenever we're together, something happens to mess it up. _Chunks of wood falling from the ceiling as the floor kept shaking. A tremendous weight falls on her and the last thing she hears are her parents screams. She knows she'll never see Lance again, but why would she even want to, now that the illusion is over?_ And it's not like the others will be very sorry if something does happen. They still think he's the devil incarnate.  
  
Girl, why do you even care what they think? You and Lance are great together. It's just taking the others a little longer to realize that.  
  
She sighed again. I wish you were going.  
  
Uh-uh. Scott's going with Taryn, Evan's going with what's-her-face, Kurt's going with Amanda, and besides, I don't have a good track record with dances.  
  
So go and dance by yourself.  
  
I can't, Rogue said firmly.  
  
Is that like I never learned to dance without embarrassing myself' or I belong to a strict religious cult that forbids having any fun'? I asked before I had realized that I'd spoken aloud.  
  
Rogue looked up like she'd just noticed that I was there. Excuse me, she said, her accent becoming broader like it usually did when she was annoyed. I don't remember including you in this conversation, _Messiah_. She rolled her eyes. Telepaths. No sense of other people's privacy. At least he doesn't seem like he's controlling anyone, unlike some people I could mention.  
  
Kitty, at least, had the decency to be polite. Hey, Stephen, who're you going with?  
  
No one, I said gloomily.   
  
I wanted to take Bobby up on his offer, but there didn't seem to be anyone I was interested in. Jubilee was the obvious choice, but the word on the street was that she had already thought of someone to ask. I tried making excuses, like I had too much homework, that I hadn't been to a dance since eighth grade, or that monsters from another dimension would probably attack the place anyway, but it didn't do any good. The night of the dance, I felt like I had dateless wonder branded on my forehead.  
  
**  
  
I didn't want to see everyone leaving the mansion in all their glamorous glory. I did the rest of my homework, then spent at least an hour holed up in my room, trying to work out a bitch of an algebra assignment. After deciding that I would never understand or be sure why I needed to understand the reciprocal of _a_ in terms of _b_, and each little _x_ on the page seemed to taunt me, I snuck down the stairs for a snack.  
  
Pretty much everyone was gone. There was soft music coming from the Uncommon Room. Despite myself, I peeked around the doorframe. Jubilee was in there, sitting by the fire, alone. She looked up when she saw me. What's up? I thought you were going to the dance.  
  
Nobody asked me. What about you?  
  
Couldn't think of anyone to ask. Bobby's still mad at me for the whole joyride thing.  
  
I came and sat down beside her. It wasn't really your fault.  
  
Easy for you to say. You weren't there. You wouldn't be caught dead breaking the rules.  
  
I couldn't think of anything to say to that except, It's not like that.  
  
Sure it is. We're sneaking off every night to do the things that we're never allowed to do because they don't consider us real' X-Men, and you've never even thought about going with us. Then she grinned. On the other hand, you never ratted us out, either. You could've done that easily, and Xavier would have listened. He's got you marked.  
  
Marked how?  
  
As one of his little pets, she said as if it were obvious. Jean, Scooter, and now you, I guess. Don't worry, I don't think any less of you.  
  
I didn't _ask_ to be his pet.  
  
I told you, I know. It's not something you can helped. But they all see you as the next fearless leader.  
  
I drew back a little. What? I don't want that?  
  
I'm just telling you what I heard. Us New Mutants need a leader. Bobby's sort of fallen into the groove, but he takes too many stupid risks. The Prof's going to lose patience with him pretty quickly.  
  
I've never thought of myself as the leader of anything.  
  
You could have fooled me. You're pretty good at this, you know.  
  
But that would mean I'd have to... I began.  
  
Stay here after graduation and help out, like Storm and Wolvie, she agreed with a nod. I guess I shouldn't've been the one to tell you any of this.  
  
It's not something I really picture myself doing, I said. But last year, I didn't even know that mutants existed. And I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do with my life, even though I thought about being a comedian.   
  
I wanted to be a ballet dancer, she said. Me and about every single girl in the country. That was before the break-in. I also remember wanting to be a chef. Also a drummer. But I guess I can't do any of those things now.  
  
  
  
Because things are different for mutants. That's what Xavier doesn't tell us, but we know it anyway. My powers first surfaced when mall security was chasing me. They all thought I was a freak. Some of us are lucky enough to find places like this, but you can never really be comfortable, because it's dangerous to forget that the rest of the world isn't that safe. Sometimes I'm willing to risk it, though.  
  
  
  
She looked at me like I was crazy. It's not like I want to stay cooped up here forever.  
  
But aren't you scared?  
  
I said _sometimes_ I'm willing to risk it, she emphasized. Sometimes I just want to stay here forever. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't, I guess.'Sides, you guys are my family now. I haven't had that for a long time, even if you did.  
  
I wouldn't be so sure. I'd already decided that I wouldn't tell _anyone_ else about the Christmas party. They'd call me a hypocrite, and worse. I told you, they act pretty weird around me now. It was kind of a relief to come back here.  
  
I'm glad you did, Jubilee said, and I didn't have to read her mind to know that she was telling the truth.  
  
Whether it was a stroke of good luck or bad, Evan, Bobby, and Kitty all burst in at once. You wouldn't believe what happened at the dance -- Bobby trailed off. Was I interrupting something?  
  
I don't know, I said. And I didn't.  
  
**  
  
Kurt had majorly scored with Amanda, so he was bouncing off the walls for weeks on end afterward. Whoever this girl was, she had to be someone pretty special to just accept that her boyfriend was blue and fuzzy. Some part of me -- an increasingly small part -- was jealous.  
  
The snow melted, and still no mention was made about my future status as fearless leader. If the other New Mutants knew, they didn't say a word. Neither did Xavier.  
  
I was hanging out in my room after school on Friday when someone pounded on my door. Get down here, kid, came Logan's voice. You got a visitor.  
  
I sat up.   
  
Some girl. Phoebe something. She's waiting downstairs. 


	15. Swept Away

A/N: This chapter repeats some of the dialogue from Out of Sight, Out of Mind, just from a different point of view. So bear with us, okay?  
  
Chapter 14: Swept Away  
  
I couldn't believe it. Even as I picked her up and swung her around, burying my face in her reddish curls, I wasn't going to let myself believe that it wasn't a dream. I was so sure that she didn't want anything to do with me. With us. But I'd been wrong again. All my doubts and worries, from the way Jubes was looking at me now to the mental bolts that I still couldn't quite manage to block, suddenly lost their meaning.  
  
When she told me that she'd barely been surviving, I was shocked. I hadn't known things were this bad.  
  
When she told me about how this guy named Reese was chasing after her, I was jealous, but not nearly as much so as I thought I'd be.  
  
When a chance encounter with Cyclops led her to ask what I hadn't been telling her about this place, I was all set to lie. She won't understand, I reasoned. She's just another outsider. The rest of the world isn't ready.  
  
But she wasn't the rest of the world. She was just Phoebe. My best friend. And I always thought I could tell her anything, right? So I found myself telling her about the X-Men and the Brotherhood and Xavier's vision for a better future. And when she asked what ordinary people thought of this, I couldn't lie about that, either. I had even mentioned the soccer game incident before I realized I was treading on dangerous ground. I tried to cover up by not mentioning anything specific.  
  
She wasn't buying it. Fixed things how?  
  
I had a pretty good idea of what she'd think of the truth, but I didn't want to start covering up now. So I reached out to see if maybe there was something that could convince me that she'd be okay with this. I'd gotten fairly good at poking into people's minds without getting caught, and if she knew what I was doing, she didn't say so.  
  
Satisfied, I looked right at her, praying that she wouldn't freak out. Why would she? It definitely wasn't her style. The witnesses had heard too much, I said. Xavier had to wipe their memories.  
  
And you think it was a good idea?  
  
He had to do it to protect us. And them. Before I could stop myself, I added, It's no big deal -- I've been learning to do the same thing. Then I cringed at how pompous I sounded. I didn't sound like me at all.   
  
She was speaking in a flat, incredulous voice I'd never heard before. As if the idea of me being serious about anything was in a whole other solar system.   
  
The realization hit me like a bag of sand in the stomach: it wasn't that I didn't sound like me, it was that I did. That was what was ticking her off so much. She'd come looking for the Stephen she used to know, and that person didn't exist anymore. I told her that I had friends who didn't avoid me because of what I could do, but treated it like something special.   
  
That was when she called me ridiculous, telling me that my family thought I was special, didn't they? I almost laughed until she demanded, How'd they react to this whole X-Men thing?  
  
I'll probably tell them soon, I lied. I had no intention of giving them another reason to treat me like a problem. Anyway, you also know that I wasn't really good at anything. I think I can be good at this.  
  
At controlling people's minds? Like the idea was so farfetched to her. Like I didn't have to see the world in a different way than most people, and this might be my only way to fight back.  
  
But I didn't say any of those things. Instead I said, It's for the greater good.  
  
How do you know that? Her eyes, like her voice, were like two flat stones, demanding, challenging. I'd never seen that look in them before.  
  
Xavier said so, I said immediately.  
  
Xavier is wrong, she spat out.  
  
Kitty and Rogue, who had been passing my room on their way to theirs, stopped and stared. Who -- Rogue began, but she was yanked away before she could continue. I could hear Kitty telling her to mind her own business.  
  
I turned back to Phoebe. I'd been waiting for this -- the moment when I could see her again and tell her the truth. I'd always thought she had an open mind, ready to go along with pretty much anything, and better at resolving arguments than starting them. Some part of me had hoped that she'd understand even after I knew that my family never would. And I knew that if I had told her in the beginning, she might have. But something had happened since I'd left, or maybe she'd just been left too long to stew in her own fear and bitterness. In any case, I knew that she had changed, and told her as much.  
  
She threw up her hands theatrically. I've changed! Listen to yourself! I believe it because Xavier said so,' she mimicked cruelly. I couldn't remember her even being cruel. It's okay to control people's minds for the greater good.'  
  
I thought you would understand. I guess I was wrong.  
  
The only thing I don't understand is why he's teaching you to be just as prejudiced as he thinks we would be.  
  
I almost lost it. _We're not prejudiced!_ I wanted to shout. _We're doing what we have to! You're the one who can't deal with what you don't get!_  
  
Is something the matter? Xavier asked from the doorway.  
  
Phoebe turned her face toward him slowly, twisted in hatred.  
  
I know what you must think of me by now, he said gently. But as I'm sure he has told you, you have it all wrong.  
  
Tell her, I begged him. I can't make her see.  
  
He laughed silently. I'll do my best. Aloud, Will you come with me, please? Both of you?  
  
Are you crazy? Phoebe shot back.  
  
I winced. Come on, I whispered. It'll be okay. Playing along with her, I added, I won't let anything happen to you.  
  
She still didn't look convinced, but she stood up anyway, her hands jammed into her pockets. We followed him down the elevator and another hall, and into his office, where he indicated two chairs that were set up like he'd been waiting for us. I didn't have time to think about that now. All I wanted was to make her see that we were on her side. That I was on her side, and always would be.  
  
We are aware of your suspicions, Phoebe, Xavier began. But you completely misunderstand us. He went on to explain how the X-Men had been assembled because of his concern for how ordinary people would survive in a world overrun by mutants, but he also had to make sure they didn't find out the truth before they were ready. I was still trying to work out why he thought he should be the one to decide when they were ready, but I kept my mouth shut.   
  
Instead, I tried again to make her see how much she'd changed. You used to be so trusting... and accepting... and...  
  
She spat out the word like it was poison. Well, you're right. Maybe I have changed. Why are either of you so surprised? She looked from Xavier to me, then glanced at Logan, who hadn't even said a word. Do you think for one minute that mutants are the only ones who have to come to terms with situations like this?  
  
That one, I couldn't answer. I knew that I'd been too busy fitting in at school, training, and trying to keep the peace with my family that I hadn't really given much thought to how she was adjusting. When she'd called, she'd sounded fine, and I believed that she had adjusted to my leaving like she'd adjusted to everything else in her life. How could I have been fooled so easily.  
  
So far, I have refrained from using that particular talent of mine, Xavier said, as if in answer to her thoughts. He sounded pretty surprised that she thought he'd ever do something like that, and he wasn't the only one. So far. You are not my enemy, Phoebe, and I hope I am not yours.  
  
This was my chance. He's right.  
  
You really believe that? she asked me, and now she didn't sound angry or defiant. She just sounded sad.  
  
  
  
And you're really happy here?  
  
Don't you trust me? As soon as I'd said it, I knew that that was the most important thing: knowing that she still trusted me to make the right decisions, or just to make my _own_ decisions.  
  
she said. I trust you. I started to thank her, but she cut me off. If I thought your miraculous change of heart was somehow his doing, I'd find a way to take all of you down. But unlike some people, I don't believe that others are at fault just because they think differently than the way I want them to.  
  
I was still reeling from her unexpected speech and didn't notice at first that two things had happened at once: Xavier's eyes had narrowed in concentration, and Phoebe suddenly froze in her chair. I asked her if she was okay.  
  
She's fine, kid, Logan muttered. Just let him do his thing.  
  
  
  
I won't hurt her. I'm only going to see how serious she really was. Don't interfere.  
  
He _wouldn't_ hurt her... would he?  
  
The ticking of the clock suddenly seemed louder than ever. I didn't think that even two minutes passed, but it felt like forever. I saw her eyes start to glaze over, then squeeze shut as she shook her head from side to side like she was fighting something... Stop it, I told her. She didn't sound like she heard.  
  
_Crash_! The professor's desk was suddenly cleared, and Phoebe was on her feet, eyes blazing. Stay out of my head, you creep. I mean it.  
  
Then she was gone.  
  
I got up and started after her. I had to find out what had really happened.  
  
Leave her, Xavier said firmly.  
  
I stared at him. I can't.  
  
You have to. The young lady is obviously too far gone to even listen to me. His voice was full of regret. She is, however, too frightened of what she's seen here today to take all of us down.'  
  
You ain't scared of her, are you, Chuck? Logan asked. I mean, she's not even a mutant.  
  
The fear of humanity can be a very powerful force.  
  
Is she going to be okay? I wanted to know.  
  
In time, I'm sure she will. She has her own demons to fight, and she was right about one thing: the journey to understanding is unique for each of us.  
  
I knew he was right about that, and I knew it was too much to ask for me to have moved on without her. But underneath, she was the same girl I'd fallen in love with, and I couldn't just let her go. Xavier was right about another thing: I had to stay here. I had a part to play in making people like her, and my family, see the truth. And I hoped that when the journey he'd talked about was over, it would lead her back to me. I was willing to wait forever.  
  
A/N: That's the end of this story. The next one will tell What Happens Next from alternating viewpoints. LONG LIVE THE CAUSE! 


End file.
